People Like Us
by eagles1254
Summary: How do two people who have the most confusing, hot-and-cold relationship-if it can even  be called that-come together and save each other after the same event shapes their lives forever?
1. Chapter 1

It all starts with Kelly Clarkson's hit "My Life Would Suck Without You." Actually, it technically starts with "Sweet Caroline," but they both know that the real thing starts with Kelly Clarkson and the evening after sectionals when Rachel Berry first realizes that Noah Puckerman cares about Glee.

They have all just discovered Sue Sylvester's sabotage, and there's no time for any sort of discord. Santana has just made the unexpected confession that she actually cares about Glee, so Rachel uncharacteristically lets the betrayal of a quarter of the club slide. When someone boldly states the question that they're all thinking ("what the hell are we gonna do?"), she looks at Mercedes, who looks like someone just killed her puppy. But then the Glee Club's second most dramatic diva just shrugs and tells Rachel that she's only prepared to sing "And I'm Telling You." Rachel shocks everybody again when she vehemently protests taking Mercedes' well-deserved spotlight away, but when Kurt (Mercedes' self-proclaimed superfan) insists along with the rest of the club that Rachel taking the ballad solo is the only way the club has a chance to win, her mind immediately settles on "Don't Rain on my Parade." She smiles broadly when Quinn speaks softly from the corner. She really hasn't said much since Rachel blabbed about the baby's paternity. "We can do 'Somebody to Love.' That's a real crowd pleaser."

"That and a can of soup will buy us third place," snaps a frustrated Puck. Left hanging in the tense air are two unwelcome implications. First: third is also last in this particular competition, and second: anything but first and the automatic berth in Regionals that it garners spells the E-N-D of the club at McKinley High School.

Everything after that is a blur. Finn saves the day with the arrangement of "You Can't Always Get What You Want" that Mr. Schue steered him toward. Matt, Mike, Santana and Brittany put together solid choreography considering the time constraints under which they worked (sixty short minutes). New Directions has many heroes that day (it takes all twelve of them to pull together a performance and win), but when Rachel tries to coax her adrenaline filled body to sleep after the competition, the moment that she keeps returning to is Noah Puckerman, green eyes snapping rage, as he bites out the obvious shortcomings of their patchwork, two-song set list. So as her eyes fall upon the trophy glinting in the darkness of her room (she has possession until their next rehearsal; she is the captain after all) and she realizes that Mr. Schue didn't see one second of their winning performance (which wasn't anything like the one they were planning to do at the end of Friday's rehearsal), she decides that they should perform something for him. They don't have rehearsal until Tuesday, and she knows that she'll need help from a jock to earn the acquiescence of the Cheerios. She decides almost instantaneously on Puck, who despite the recent scandal, still holds significant social clout. And she realized in that moment today that he cares much more about the club than Finn ever had. So she rolls over in bed, plucks her BlackBerry off her bedside table, selects a number from her contact list that she hasn't used for a long time and quickly taps out a text message. _I have an idea._

Her phone buzzes a minute later. _No pleasantries there Berry. What's up?"_

_Is it too late to call?_

_Please, Berry, remember who you're talking to."_

She can feel her brow furrowing as she glances at her bedside clock and sees that it was close to 11:30. She supposes given that it's a Saturday, it isn't late at all for someone as "studly" as Puck. Sighing, she selects his number from her contacts again and presses call.

He answers halfway through the first ring. "If this is a booty call, Berry, I'll be there in 10."

"Noah! Don't be such a pig."

"Sorry, sorry," he rolls his eyes and lies flat on his back. "What's up, B?"

"I have an idea, and I need your help."

"This is _so_ a booty call. What else would you ask my help with?"

"Noah, it's not. It's about Glee."

"Why aren't you calling Saint Finn?" He doesn't bother to hide the bitterness in his voice. Berry's a smart girl; she's probably already figured out the complicated nature of his relationship with his former best friend.

"Due to a multitude of events over the course of the past several weeks, I have come to the realization that he doesn't care about our club nearly as much as you do."

Puck tries to respond, but words just won't form. Berry knows he cares?

_Well, shit_.

Apparently that girl knows every damn thing. He sort of grunts, assuming Berry will be more than happy to take control of the conversation.

She isn't. The phone line is silent for several moments before he worries that she might have died or something. It's the only explanation for her not speaking when she has the opportunity. "Berry? You alive?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I'm alive."

"Well you weren't talking, so I thought you mighta died."

"I was waiting for you to respond. We're having a conversation which means you should be an equal participant."

"That's never bothered you before."

"Well, maybe I'm trying to damp down my intensity a little bit."

Puck is taken aback. He's never thought that she would even try to change. He finds himself hoping she won't alter herself too much. And then he finds himself saying that. "Don't change too much, Berry. I like your brand of crazy. It's what makes you you."

_Fuck_. How did that slipped through his well-oiled filter? That's the kind of thing he never lets himself say. But he hears her sharp inhalation at his soft sort-of compliment, and the vulnerable whisper that carries her "thank you" over the phone line just about makes him want to hold her and tell her just about everything he likes about her. And Noah Puckerman? He does not have those types of urges. Ever.

He's had enough of his feelings. The discovery that he _likes_ and wants to protect Rachel Berry is fucking with his carefully monitored balance. "So, Berry, what the fuck did you want?"

"Oh right. Well, I had an idea."

"So you've said. Hit me with it, B."

"I want to put together a performance for Mr. Schuester. He wasn't able to see our performance due to the unfortunate betrayal of our set list to the other clubs in the competition, so I thought we could put something together to perform for him in rehearsal on Tuesday. He's done a lot for the entire club, and…"

"Berry!" he interjects, while she pauses to take a huge breath, knowing that she is just getting started on a long-winded speech.

"Yes?" she answers, and she sounds confused that someone's brave enough to interrupt her rants. She thinks that his ability to stand up to her might be good for her and Noah's friendship (she thinks that this phone call might be the first of many).

"I think it's a good idea. You're gonna need to get Finn on board, though, our only interactions these days are his fist with my face. I'll handle Matt, Mike, Q, Santana and Britt."

"So you have the jocks other than Finn, and I have Finn and the Gleeks? Do you have any song suggestions?"

"Berry, I don't give a shit about what song you pick. Just tell me the time and place and I'll make sure that the Cheerios and football guys are there, okay?"

"Choir room after last period on Monday. I'll make sure Mr. Schuester isn't around and I'll get the Gleeks there. Can you warn Matt, Britt, Santana and Mike that we're definitely going to need their help with choreography? I'll provide the arrangement."

Puck nods. "You got it, Berry. See ya Monday."

"Thank you for your assistance, Noah."

He picks out the five numbers from his contacts (Matt, Quinn, Mike, Santana, Brittany) and bangs out a quick text message. _Glee meeting after school Monday, working on a number for Schue. Berry's idea_. He sets his phone down on his bedside table and rolls onto his stomach. He drifts off easily for the first time in a while, feeling warm that Rachel turned to him for help in getting this little performance for Schue going. For whatever reason, the fact that Rachel thought he could help her makes him feel like the fucking man, even if Rachel has probably already forgotten their entire conversation.

She hasn't. She's actually lying awake at home wondering exactly what it all means.

* * *

He's actually surprised that Quinn, Santana and Brittany show up in the choir room after school on Monday. Q is pretty much pissed off at the world, which, alright, he can understand, and Santana has been such a bitch lately, and Brittany just does whatever Quinn and Santana do. None of them responded to his text, so despite the fact that when Rachel asks Monday morning if they're coming or not he says "fuck, Berry, I said they were coming, didn't I?" he actually has no idea whether they are. He sees both of them in the halls between classes, but he doesn't bother to try to talk to Quinn and Santana just says "don't talk to me, Puckerman. You screwed over my best friend and yours."

He rolls his eyes and shrugs. "You already knew that, and don't forget that you're head cheerio now. You aren't that pissed." Santana responds by throwing her patented filthy look over her left shoulder then flicking her ponytail dramatically behind her.

Puck throws his hands above his head in frustration, wondering why he bothers. Everyone always gets on Rachel for being dramatic, but he thinks that most of the time she's got nothing on Santana or Mercedes.

But he gets to the choir room at 3:30 and Santana, Quinn and Brittany are sitting in the back corner giggling together about something. Quinn looks up when he walks in and their eyes meet. She gives him a little smile, and he flicks his hand at her in a little wave. This, he thinks, is a step in the right direction for whatever relationship they might have. He figures that they're going to need to be cordial—yes, he knows what it means—for as long as their kid is in her stomach. There are appointments and decisions and conversations, and they need to not be blaming each other for a mistake that was as much her fault as it was his or they'll never get anywhere. Still anything beyond civility is pushing it with them, so he chooses a seat in the front corner, opposite from the giggling girls.

The rest of the club trickles in and Rachel arrives last, breathlessly handing out sheet music. "I took the liberty of picking a song that I thought we could all have fun with and I put together a simple arrangement that we should all be able to grasp by tomorrow. Since I got a hold of Finn yesterday, I arranged the song for the two of us on lead, and the whole arrangement is very easy. I thought that I would bring the trophy and we would give it to him then we can sing and maybe take the rest of rehearsal off, if you guys want to."

Puck knows his mouth is hanging open, but he doesn't think that he can physically shut it. Rachel thinks that they can miss a rehearsal? They're going to regionals and Glee club is her life.

Rachel notices the eleven shocked faces staring back at her and blushes self-consciously. "It's been a hard few weeks for our club, and I thought it might be beneficial for us to take the time to relax and regroup. Rest assured, I'll be back to my crazy, intense, abrasive self in plenty of time to prepare us for regionals."

Puck laughs. He knows she's trying to make a joke, and she sends him a small smile for understanding. He wonders idly what it might mean that he gets her jokes even though they barely know each other. They just sort of get each other, he thinks. He has to wonder what the deal with that is.

He doesn't have much more time to think about it though because Rachel has Matt and Mike, who have both been warming up to her for a couple weeks now, start working on choreography, and they enlist the help of Brittany and Santana, and soon all twelve are being positioned. An hour and a half later, they've got the singing and simple dance steps down, and they've agreed that Brittany is going to distract Mr. Schue after school the next day with Spanish questions while the group goes over the routine one last time.

The plan goes off without a hitch, and Mr. Schue tells Brittany he'll print her some extra worksheets and meet her with them at Glee. The whole club is settled when Mr. Schuester gets there, and he smiles when they force him into a chair at the front of the room.

They put the trophy on Artie's lap and he wheels it forward to their teacher. Even though he knows that they won, he still gets this huge, douchebaggy (also sort of amazing) smile on his face when Artie hands the award to him. It makes Puck feel pretty awesome when that smile just gets bigger over the course of their performance. After they've finished, Schue claps for them, tells them that they're free to go and bolts out of the room.

Puck wonders what the hell is going through their teacher's mind, but Kurt just sneers "Oh, Wemma," and picks something off his fingernail.

"Yeah," Mercedes says, leaning forward, "I heard Miss P is leaving. Mr. Schue must be heartbroken."

"I think he was trying to catch her," Tina speaks up quietly, and Puck just stands up and walks out. He doesn't have patience for much these days, and this kind of asinine gossiping is pretty low on his list of priorities. He stands up and shuffles out of the room toward his locker. He doesn't really have anywhere to go or anything to do until he has to pick up his sister from soccer practice in an hour, and he usually kills the time between the end of Glee and picking up his sister with a quick 7-11 run. He knows he can't waste the entire sixty minutes at a convenience store without wanting to kill himself, but he definitely doesn't want to listen to the stupid shit that Kurt and Mercedes talk about.

Like he does every day, he internally curses the fact that his locker is at the opposite end of the school from the parking lot and the choir room is right between the two. He grabs his stuff and retraces his steps past the choir room, where most of the club is still gossiping enthusiastically. Rachel's locker is also between his locker and the parking lot (it made slushie tossing much more convenient at the beginning of the year), and he's surprised to see her popped up on the balls of her feet digging through her bag for something.

The way she's standing makes her legs look fucking _excellent_, and he slows his lazy shuffle down even more to get a really good look as he walks past. But it's not until he stops checking her out and speeds his shuffle back up that she calls his name.

"Sup?" he turns toward her and hitches his backpack up on his shoulder.

She slams her locker shut and walks toward him, tugging her trolley bag behind him. "Thank you for laughing at my joke during our Glee rehearsal yesterday."

He knows he looks confused, and he sorts through his memories of the previous day to figure out what the hell she's talking about. When he does, he laughs. "Berry, it was funny, you don't have to thank people for laughing at your jokes."

She shrugs a shoulder, and he doesn't like the way the uncertain movement looks on her usually confident form. "Still, you were the only one that laughed."

He laughs again and slings an arm over her shoulders. "You're one in a million, B-money. Let me give you a lift."

"B-money?" she asks, and he thinks the way her nose is all crinkled at the nickname is adorable.

"Yep. B-money. Why aren't you bonding with the rest of those losers over whether or not Mr. Schue is boning Bambi-eyes?"

"Noah, that's disgusting," she chastises, shrugging out from under his arm and delivering a surprisingly painful slap to his chest. "And I don't indulge in petty gossip like that. It only ends up being unproductive and hurtful."

"I thought you were all about team bonding and making friends with them and shit."

She sighs. "Not when the team bonding involves discussing lies and rumors, the validity of which are completely unknown. That kind of immaturity and pettiness is the reason that I don't have any friends, and I refuse to use the events of someone else's life to form a friendship. If that kind of gossip is the basis of a friendship it's not a very strong one."

He nods. If you make the effort to sift through her big words and superior tone, Puck thinks, you realize that she's actually just saying what she believes in the only way she knows how. He thinks it might take a lot to understand her, but once you do, you figure out that she only thinks she's better than anybody else when she's singing. The rest of the time, he thinks, she's thinks she's pretty damn average.

He doesn't know why, but that makes his stomach drop and gives him an undeniable urge to wrap her in his arms. So he shoves open the school doors, lets her walk through ahead of him and throws his arm back over her shoulder to guide her to his truck.

He drives a 1979 Ford, which is a fucking sweet antique. It was completely useless when he got it, but he fixed it up himself, and now it runs like a champ. He gets a kick out of watching Berry getting into the passenger side, so he doesn't offer to help her. Once she's in, he reaches under the bench seat of the truck and blindly presses play on the killer sound system he installed there a couple weeks back.

The strong beat of K'Naan's "Fatima" vibrates through the system, and Puck tears out of the parking lot, ignoring the stop sign and pulling directly onto the public road. He also decides to ignore the indignant "_Noah, that was a stop sign!" _that comes from the passenger seat.

They ride in silence for about five minutes while he navigates the quiet back roads near the high school. Finally, Rachel uncrosses her arms and asks him who the artist blaring through the speakers is.

He doesn't answer her question. Instead, he offers "finally got your panties out of a twist about the stop sign?"

She lets out an exasperated breath and he glances over in time to catch her rolling her eyes. "I just want to know who wrote this song."

"K'naan is his name. He's Somalian."

"I like it. I've never heard him before."

"He's not on Broadway." He stops at a red light and ignores Rachel's snarky _"at least you stop for lights" _while he counts the tracks in his head as he pushes the button under his seat.

"This is his most popular song. 'Waving Flag.'"

_When I get older, / I will be stronger / They'll call me freedom / Just like a waving flag_

He watches her out of the corner of his eye as the lyrics wash over her. Her eyelids fall shut and she moves her head gently in time with the beat. She looks so peaceful that he has to tear his eyes away from her and focus on the road before he does something totally stupid: like think she's just _so fucking beautiful_, or something even worse than that, like tell her how beautiful he thinks she is.

When they get to the end of the song, he thumbs through the CD for one more that he thinks she'll like, and they sit in her driveway listening to the second half of it, his truck idling loudly.

It ends and he cuts the engine, looking across the cab of the truck at her. She's fiddling nervously with the hem of her skirt, and she can tell she's nervous.

"Look, Berry, stay or scoot but I gotta go do shit." As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he curses himself. He doesn't know why he has to fall immediately back on 'asshole' setting the second he feels even a little bit uncomfortable.

She immediately grabs her bag and pulls urgently on the door handle, but the passenger door is the one thing in his truck that he hasn't gotten around to fixing (literally, the last thing). It gets stuck from the inside all the time—he always has to open it for Quinn and his little sister. He chuckles as she gets completely flustered; when he's skirting around the front end to open the damn thing for her, he realizes that she probably feels awkward and just wants to run inside because he went from friendly to gruff so quickly, and she probably has no idea what she did or what happened. So he yanks open the offending door and then grabs her bag for her and helps her jump down—it's a really long way for such a midget.

"Anyone home?" There are no cars in the driveway and the house looks really quiet, so he just kind of assumes that her dads are both at work.

He's right. "Dad works until 5 every night, and Daddy's in Boston at a conference until the end of the week."

When they get to her front door, he hands her the handle of the trolley bag and rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry about earlier, in the truck, you know?"

It takes a couple seconds, but she nods her head a couple times when she realizes that he's actually asking her a question.

"Yeah, I get mean when I'm uncomfortable. Actually I get mean in most situations, but I shouldn't have said that."

She shrugs a shoulder. "It's alright, Noah, I understand. Do you actually have plans or would you like to come inside?"

He smiles a little. She's so damn polite all the time. "No, I gotta pick up my brat sister. She's mine to torture every afternoon."

"Okay," she smiles up at him. "Well, thank you for the ride. I'll let you go."

He smirks at the idea that she could control anything that he does or chooses to do but lets the comment slide. He's halfway down the walk before he turns back to her. She's got the key in the lock and her hair is hanging halfway down her back. "Hey, Rach?"

She turns quickly. "Yes?"

"You said your dad works 'til 5. How d'you usually get home?"

"Kurt, if he doesn't forget. When he does, bus."

"The city bus? Rach, there are creepy fucks on that thing."

"I'm fine, Noah, I can handle myself."

He doesn't doubt that, but he still is freaked out at the thought of her riding that bus all by herself. Lima is home to some weird dudes. "So how often do you take the bus?"

"Two or three days a week. Kurt tends to forget about me on days when we don't have Glee."

"Hey, look, next time he forgets, just call me, alright?" He runs his hand over his Mohawk and rubs the back of his neck again. She thinks it might be his nervous habit.

"Alright, Noah, I'll keep that mind. Don't you need to go collect your sister?"

She watches as he glances at the watch on his left wrist. "Shit, yeah!" He turns on his heel and rushes to his truck, but still waits until she's in the house before he backs out of her driveway.

Puck's a couple minutes late when he pulls into the parking lot of the soccer field where Eliza has practice. He sees a couple of the girls that are on her peewee team, but she's standing under a tree by herself, and he knows she's upset. He jumps out of the car and strides over to her, smiling for her benefit when she sees him.

She runs up to him, and he lifts her tiny frame easily. "Hey, kid, sorry I'm late."

She sniffs. "S'okay, Noah, I just got scared."

He nods and sets her down, tugging her dark ponytail playfully. "I know, I didn't mean to be late, I promise."

Curious eyes meet his, and he groans before she even starts asking all her questions. "Why were you late, anyway? You're always early on Tuesdays because you say there's 'not time to do shit 'cept go to 7-11' between the end of Glee and picking me up."

"I drove someone home."

"Who? All your friends can drive." She starts to tick off the names she knows. "Finn, Matt, Mike, Quinn, Santana, Brittany."

He opens the door to his truck for her and easily lifts her into her booster. "I have friends besides those ones, you know."

"I've never met them," she tells him defiantly, and he's proud of her for arguing her point.

It doesn't mean he's not going to argue back though. "Doesn't mean I don't have them, kid."

"What's his name?"

"Rachel." He doesn't bother to correct the personal pronoun.

"Rachel is a _girl's_ name." Her voice is whiny, and he can't stand it.

"Rachel is a girl. We've said the name Rachel too many times. Can we talk about something else now?"

"Nope. I wanna talk about Rachel. Is she pretty? Is she nice? Is she your _girlfriend?_"

"I don't have a girlfriend," he bites and thinks about Quinn living in the guest room of his house. She is the closest thing he has to a girlfriend, but the thought of dating her makes him want to rip his brain out just to stop thinking it. He's not a girlfriend guy.

"What's she like? How do you know her? How old is she? Is she pretty? _No-ah_, answer me!"

He tugs on her seatbelt to make sure it's fastened tightly, then looks at her. "Rachel's okay looking (lie). She's a sophomore, so she's fifteen, probably, I don't know though (lie: she's 15 now, but she'll be sixteen at the end of March, just before he turns 17). And she's in Glee club."

Eliza pauses to digest all the information he's offered her, and he takes advantage of the opportunity to turn on the radio although he does switch the CD to a mix of songs that he and Eliza like.

He doesn't really get to hear the music though because Eliza starts to speak again. "So, Rachel's in Glee club? Is she any good?"

He laughs just because he can't help it. Asking if Rachel is a good singer is like asking if the sky is blue. It's a fact: Rachel can sing; people need to breathe to live. "Yeah, Lize, she's got the most beautiful voice I've ever heard."

The little girl's eyes grow wide. "Better than Hannah Montana?"

He smiles at his sister and leans over to look her closely in the eyes. "Compared to Rachel, Hannah Montana is tone-deaf, alright, kid?"

She nods, in either shock or disbelief, and he kisses her hairline and runs his hand over her head before the light turns green and he returns his focus to driving.

A Miley Cyrus song comes on the CD, and he scoffs a little. _This chick's got nothin' on Rach._


	2. Chapter 2

Rachel still remembers the first time that she realized that Noah Puckerman was only a teenager struggling to survive high school, just like she. Her friend from dance class, Liz, was driving her home (because Rachel did actually have a couple friends at the dance schools she attended: Lima Academy for the Arts and the Greater Dayton School of the Performing Arts). Although Dayton is a solid 80 minute drive from Lima, she and Liz attend four hours of lessons on Saturdays, with Liz driving (she was a year older and had her license), and Rachel paying for gas. The Puckermans' house is on the way home on the outskirts of Lima, and every now and then, Rachel and Liz would see Noah outside, doing yard work or working out. Liz would ogle his often shirtless body, while Rachel would just roll her eyes and make sure that whatever happened, she didn't make eye contact. One day the stoplight just before Noah's corner lot was red, though, so Rachel and Liz had several minutes to observe. His sister was sitting on the driveway, surrounded by discarded sidewalk chalk. Rachel, for her part, tried to ignore the obvious physical attraction she felt for him (his body is literally perfect), seeing as he had only recently retired his habit of dousing her with ice cold facials approximately twice a week.

But that day, there was just no way she could deny it. Until she allowed herself to acknowledge Puck's obvious physical assets, Rachel had never understood the expression "walking sex." Since that day she has thought that Noah Puckerman's picture would be in the dictionary next to the written definition. He's confident and walks with a rhythmic swagger that only accentuates his muscles. His intense eyes and mysterious, brooding personality only add to his appeal, and Rachel can understand why every female heart in the school (hers included) races when he walks by. He's just pure _man, _even at the tender age of seventeen_._

That day, he was wearing a well-fitted, green Beatles t-shirt, which stretched perfectly over his broad chest and shoulders, and jeans were slung low around his hips. A pair of aviator sunglasses covered his intense hazel eyes, and he was coasting up and down the driveway on a Razor scooter. As the light turned green and Liz accelerated, Puck pulled a small wheelie and then rode off the curb, grinning genuinely, and Rachel remembers being floored by the realization that he, like her, like everyone else she knows, is just trying to get through high school without serious psychological damage. (She still thinks it's too bad that he seems to feel the need to inflict said psychological damage in order to prevent himself from sustaining it.)

After she encounters Noah in the choir room following school on the subsequent Monday, she has to replay the scene that she and Liz witnessed to ease the sting of his cutting words.

* * *

Quinn storms out of the choir room, blonde hair swishing behind her, and Puck leans back in his chair, scrubbing his face with his hands. The bills for the baby are getting ridiculously expensive, he knows he's gonna have to tell his mom soon, and Q's hormones get worse with every day that Finn ignores them. Some days he wants to reach out and shake her (but that might hurt the baby) or just slap her across the face (but he would never hit a girl; he watched his dad slap around his mom too much). It's not only his fucking fault that this baby exists. He didn't rape Quinn for God's sake; he knows she wanted it as much as he did—when she's not occupying all her time and energy with being a total bitch, she's admitted it.

He mutters a stream of swears and stands up, kicking a music stand across the room. He thinks he's alone, but then he hears a small voice from the doorway. "Noah, are you alright?"

Berry. Jesus. "What the _fuck_ are you doing here, manhands?" he snarls. It's been a while since he's been that mean to anyone, and the fear that crosses her face for a second doesn't make him feel as powerful as it used to. But then she squares her jaw and lifts her nose in the air, and he knows she's reminding herself that this won't matter in the end. It doesn't stop him from feeling like shit about the fact that he knows somewhere inside she's still a scared little girl.

"Mr. Schuester is helping me with an arrangement for a possible song, Noah. I suggested to him several songs on which we might feature you heavily; your voice is really beautiful, and I think you could be our secret weapon at regionals."

He can't help but be astounded by her unwavering kindness, even after he's a total ass to her. Then he notices Schue standing behind Rachel, looking flabbergasted (yes, he knows the word) by the entire mind-turning exchange. Berry's still talking, so he tunes her back in, "…anyway, it seems as though you're under a significant amount of emotional duress, and the room may be more beneficial to you and whatever it is that you do to process events, so Mr. Schuester and I will meet another time. See you tomorrow, Noah."

She flounces away just like Quinn had moments before, except the sight of her hair swishing behind her makes him feel warm and just a little turned on instead of pissed as hell like Quinn's had.

Schue is still hovering in the doorway, so Puck just flops back in the chair he'd been sitting in. He knows that he's going to get a lecture, and he thinks he might just accept whatever the guy's got to say. Berry didn't deserve the malicious (yep, he knows that one too, bitches) way he snapped at her.

"Puck, what was that?"

He shrugs. He'd decided to accept the lecture, but he didn't decide to cooperate with anything else, including the Spanish teacher's dumb questions. "Pissed off, s'pose."

"Yes, I got that, but why did you have to act like that to Rachel?"

"She's annoying. Everyone knows that. Hell, you know that, Schue."

Mr. Schuester sighs, and Puck knows that's as much agreement as he's going to get from the club director who lives and breathes fairness and equality. "Look, Puck, she was actually trying to help you get some solos. She's an unbelievable singer, and she's a nice girl."

"Fuck, I know she can sing. Deaf people know she can fuckin' sing, alright? But, Jesus, she makes everyone in this damn club want to light the entire room on fire when she's not singing."

"Noah," Schue whispers, and that shit pisses him off. "I know you; you aren't this much of a jerk. I don't think you like this version of you. And I don't think you feel that way about Rachel."

He stands up so fast that his chair flies back and crashes into the second row. He's towering over the Spanish teacher. "Look, you don't know shit about me, _Will_." He spits the man's given name, by which he called his Spanish teacher years previously under vastly different circumstances. "You were _friends_ with my father, and my father is a douche bag. He didn't know me, so you sure as shit don't know me either."

Will nods. "I was friends with your father in high school. He changed a lot after that. I was just trying to help him and his family."

"Well, if you wanted to help his family, you wouldn't have just bailed right along with him." The shock on Will's face satisfies Puck. The older man hadn't been expecting that.

"I'm sorry, Noah, that didn't even cross my mind at the time."

"You don't fuckin' say," Puck bites sarcastically. "Look, man, you 'tried' to help out when my dad was being an asshole, but you were his friend. When he split, you split too. I don't blame you; it was a fucked up situation. But I'm not a ten year old kid wondering when his dad's coming home anymore, alright? I'm a fucked up 17 year old with a baby on the way and exactly three people who will talk to me. You. Don't. Know. Me. And you don't get to call me Noah."

"I'm sorry, Puck," the older man whispers. He seems to know that any more words wouldn't be in his favor because teacher and student sit in silence for a long time.

Finally, Puck speaks. "I'm just tired of everyone hating me. I know I've been an asshole, and I know I fucked up with Quinn, but it's not like I had sex with myself. And I sure as shit didn't rape her."

"Puck, I know no one thinks you raped her. Can I tell you something that you can't repeat?"

Puck nods. It does feel good to have someone actually trust him. "I won't tell anyone."

"Alright, good, first off, I don't think that anyone hates you. Some people are angry or in disbelief, but I don't think they hate you. However, I know that Quinn doesn't hate you, and more than that, I know that Rachel believes in you. You should have seen the way she was talking about you earlier today. She really has faith in you."

Puck's confused. Rachel Berry has faith in _him_? She's ambitious and talented and complicated, and he's just Puck. "She doesn't know what she's talking about," he mutters gruffly.

He finds himself on the receiving end of a scathing look from the teacher. "Bullshit," Schue bites, and Puck only blinks in shock. "If there's anyone in this school who knows what she's talking about, it's Rachel Berry, and you and I both know it. You're not dumb, Puck, and I don't need to 'know' you to know that."

Puck shrugs and stands up. He shoulders his backpack and stuffs his hands in his pockets, scuffing his shoes against the floor. "Thanks, Will," he mutters, glancing up uncertainly to see the man's reaction.

"Anytime, Noah." Puck nods once, sharply, and shuffles from the room.

Puck and Mr. Schuester have come to an unspoken agreement; the fact that their relationship runs much deeper and more complicated than student-teacher will remain hidden for the time-being.

He goes straight home after his impromptu heart-to-heart with Mr. Schuester and clomps down to the basement to his room. He drops his backpack on the floor and flops onto his semi-made bed and lies there and just thinks.

He thinks about the warm night in mid-September when Quinn called him, crying because Finn had barely looked at her that day after Rachel Berry had gyrated her way around the gym in booty shorts and kneepads with "Push It" pulsating through the gym. She sobbed that Finn was into _RuPaul_ and that she had weighed in a pound and a half overweight at Cheerios practice that day.

He thinks about the fake ID in his wallet that says his name is Nathan Pollard and that his birthday is April 16, 1987. He thinks about how clerks barely even look at that ID because he's so tall and so built and so _badass_. He thinks about the disgusting wine coolers he brought Quinn, and he thinks about the light flush they brought to her cheeks, enhancing her porcelain doll likeness. He thinks about the gentle clutch of her arm around his bicep and the way her eyelids fell shut and her top lip trapped her bottom one when his fingers and mouth made her come for the first time. He thinks about the tears that slipped down her cheeks and the almost painful way that her nails dug into the same bicep when he entered her.

He thinks about how she cried from pain throughout the act, and how tears were still falling down her face when he came and then used his fingers and mouth to make her come for a second time. He thinks about how she sobbed into his arms after, just repeating "Finn…I'm so sorry, Finn."

He thinks about the Monday after when he walked into school and almost immediately saw Finn and Quinn kissing enthusiastically against her locker, prompting him to duck into the bathroom and throw up in the stall. He knows that was the moment when he realized how badly he fucked up.

He thinks about how he just took Finn's pummeling when he found out that Drizzle wasn't his. He thinks about how he brought Quinn home with him that day, stashing the majority of her stuff in his closet and then taking her backpack and a bag full of clothes up to the guest room. He thinks about the crock of shit that he fed his mom about why she was staying with them. He bought himself a week with his supreme ability to construct a story with completely false implications out of mostly true facts: Quinn's parents were out of town (true; she also wasn't welcome there), and she and Finn were fighting (also true.)

Finally, he thinks about how the digital clock on his bedside table reads 5:52, and his mom will be home at seven-thirty. He has sixty-eight minutes to get his shit together, and then he has to contain his nerves and occupy himself in the thirty minutes between Quinn's departure for Bible Study and his mom's return (someone must pity him because Eliza is thankfully at a sleepover) and then he has to tell his mother, the one person he never wants to disappoint, that he made the biggest, most irrevocable, most hurtful mistake she could imagine. But before his mom comes home, he figures he should give Quinn a heads up that the shit's about to hit the fan in his house, so he clambers up the stairs to the guest room.

The door is open, and she doesn't hear him approach, so he takes a moment to admire her. She is strong, that much is obvious, as is the fact that she's beautiful. She's sitting cross-legged on her bed, her hair tucked behind her ears, concentrating completely on the book in front of her. He's attracted to her, as he always has been, but he doesn't feel a rush of affection that signals that they might actually work as a couple. When he starts to feel creepy watching her read, he knocks gently on the doorframe and then walks into the room.

He just sits down on the edge of the bed, looks straight at Quinn and says, "I'm going to tell my mom while you're out tonight."

She nods and they sit there in silence until she leaves for her study group half an hour later.

And tell his Mom he does. When she walks in the front door, he hurries to the entry hall, takes her bag from her and leads her into the kitchen. In the half hour between Quinn's departure and his mother's return, he made dinner and decided that the best way to go about this whole business is just to rip off the proverbial band-aid. Of course, his mother immediately knows something is up when there's pasta, red sauce, shredded parmesan and a salad sitting on the table, but she just sinks resignedly into a chair.

Puck opts to lean against the counter, and he twists a dishtowel in his hands as he meets his mother's eyes. "Mom, you know that Quinn is pregnant." His mother nods slowly. "She and Finn never had sex."

Just like that, mercifully without him having to say anything else, she knows. Her eyes go wide and fill with tears, and she breathes "Noah," and suddenly they're both crying. He can't remember the last time anyone (even his own mother) saw him cry, but he also can't bring himself to care at this moment.

He just starts to talk. He tells her about the second day of his sophomore year, when Rachel Berry (who he had known his entire life from Lima's small Jewish community) came into school wearing an ugly, lumpy sweater with panda bears on it, and a couple of seniors on the football team had ridiculed her. Later that day, a 24-ounce grape slushie was pressed into his hand and next thing he knew, it was dripping down Rachel Berry's pretty face and (probably permanently) staining the pandas. He saw the way that the grape ice slowly slipped down her face as tears tracked through it, and that was the first and last time he stood still while throwing a slushie at her. The second time that week, and every time after that, he didn't even break his stride, and he never again saw Rachel Berry cry because of his actions.

His mother's tears, however, hurt more than he remembers. It's been a while since she cried because of something he did, probably since before he joined Glee. "Why did you do it, Noah?" she asks, and her voice is raspy as she wipes under her eyes.

He stands and pours her a glass of water from the filter in the refrigerator. After she's taken a sip, he speaks. "I just wanted to fit in. I didn't want anyone to have a reason to hit me, not after _Elijah_." He spits the name as he always does, like it's the dirtiest curse in the world. "I didn't just throw slushies on Berry to fit in. There were other kids, and Kurt Hummel spent most mornings before school in the dumpster in the parking lot. I locked Artie Abrams in a porta-potty once."

His mother actually visibly cringes. "Artie Abrams? The boy who lives over in Kingwood who's in a wheelchair?"

He nods. "I was a bad guy for a long time, and it all came to a head when Quinn and I fucked." He brushes a hand over his face and is surprised to find it wet. He had completely forgotten that he was crying.

"What does your father have to do with anything?" She pushes the water across the table to him and he takes a lengthy sip before responding.

"When he left, I promised myself that no one would ever hurt me physically again, and McKinley is a brutal place. I figured it out my first day there; to avoid pain, you have to be the one inflicting it, so I did what I told myself I had to from the day I was ten and on. I hate Elijah. All he's done is make everything in my life worse, and he's another way that Finn fucking Hudson outdid me."

His mom looks confused, but she lets him continue speaking. "Everyone loves Finn even though he needs a fucking poem to remember how to tie his shoes and he still has to do the 'L' thing with his thumb and forefinger to tell his right and left apart. He's dumb as shit, but no one cares. He gets all the girls. Why do you think I settle for girls like Santana? They do what I need—no emotions necessary, but Finn has had both girls I've ever truly wanted eating right out of the palm of his hand. Even his father left him better than mine did, and I know that's ridiculous, but everyone just loves him, even though I know I have so much more to offer."

"So show people that." His mom makes it sound so fucking simple, but he actually thinks it might just be that. People are gonna find out that the real Noah Puckerman has some feelings, is actually decently smart and can do right by the important people in his life. McKinley won't know what hit it. He just has to think of a way to still seem like a badass.

That night while Quinn is out, he tells his mom everything that he's been holding back since his freshman year. When her tears finally stop, his mom's face is swollen and red, and she just looks sad. He didn't mean to make her look that way, but he's glad she finally knows everything. Maybe she'll finally understand something about him now.

After Quinn comes home, and Mrs. Puckerman wraps her in a big hug, tells her to speak up if she needs anything and reminds her that she is living in a kosher Jewish home, Quinn comes down to his basement and they debrief the talk that Puck and his mother had. When all the emotional bullshit with his mother and baby mama comes to an end, he's exhausted, but all he really wants to do is talk about it with one more person, so he shoots a text message to Rachel Berry: _B, told mom abt q and finn and drizzle. Told her abt slushies, dumpster, porta potty and some other stuff. You'd be proud._

Her response is almost instantaneous and makes him really fucking content for the first time in a long time. _I'm proud of you for a lot of reasons, Noah. _


	3. Chapter 3

He's lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling Friday night, one hand tucked underneath his head atop his pillow, wondering what prompted him to think that having sex with Quinn wouldn't have serious repercussions. He's dozing off when his phone beeps loudly, and he jumps because he wasn't expecting _anyone_ to contact him. He watches the red light in upper right hand corner flash, indicating that he has a text message, but he doesn't pick it up right away.

There are exactly five people in the world that are talking to him, and three are in his house right now. Quinn's upstairs in the office/guest room, probably reading the Bible, Eliza doesn't have a cell phone because she's seven, and his mom doesn't know how to text. He and Rachel don't exactly exchange texts often, so that pretty much narrows the origin of the message down to Matt. Sure enough, the message reads _"come to mine. Mike some soccer guys san britt cpl cheerios. Bring q and berry"_.

At this point in his life, he's in no position to turn down any sort of social invitation, so he stands from his bed, puts on a clean pair of jeans and a plaid button down and stomps up the stairs and down the hall to the guest room.

"Quinn, get ready, we're leaving for Matt's in ten minutes." He pounds his fist a couple times on the door for good measure and then ducks back into the kitchen to grab his cell, wallet and keys from the counter.

Quinn hears Puck's demand and the pounding on the door that follows, but she doesn't exactly spring into action to get ready for the outing. She hasn't felt like socializing in quite a while, especially not with these McKinley kids, who, she's realizing for the first time, don't know what the hell is really going on in the world. She used to be the same way, she thinks, but that changes pretty quickly when you start thinking practically about actually having baby. Babies seem to make everything seem much more real, and she can see why. It's a _life_.

She doesn't know who's going to be at this little gathering that Puck's insisting they go to, but she figures there won't be too many people there; most people would oppose inviting Puck to anything right now. She's noticed that his social standing has taken a much more precipitous fall than her own, but she thinks that might just be temporary because no one can keep Noah Puckerman down for long.

Rachel is working her way diligently through her Algebra 2 homework when her phone rings, interrupting her focus. She doesn't look at the screen, just taps the answer button on her iPhone and wedges the device between her shoulder and her ear.

"Hello?"

"Berry, it's Puck. We're going to Matt's."

"We are? As in you and I?"

"Yep, you, me, Q, Chang, San, Britt, and a couple guys at Rutherford's. Get ready, look hot, I'm picking you up in twenty."

"Who says that I want to go?"

"Look, Berry, as you would say, this is a mutually beneficial agreement: I show up with the people I was supposed to bring, and you do something other than your Algebra homework tonight."

"How did—"

"Lucky guess," Puck barrels on. "I'm picking you up in twenty minutes."

"Should I invite Finn?"

Silence comes over the line for several awkward seconds. "Yeah, invite him, but he's going to say no. Make sure you tell him Quinn and I will be there. I don't want any surprises, alright?"

"Alright, I'll see what I can do. I think you need to keep reaching out, Noah, so he knows you're still making an effort."

"Yeah, maybe." Puck is skeptical, but he's not going to argue with Rachel about what she wants to do for now. "I know he's not ready to hear from me, but maybe he can handle hearing from me via you. You're the only person he likes right now."

"That's not true, Noah. He's just angry, but you were his best friend for a long time; you might still be able to get back there."

"Maybe," he repeats. He doesn't tell Rachel that he's not even sure that he wants to get back there. He doesn't really want to get into the fact that in some ways he's relieved that he's no longer the golden boy's bad best friend. He thinks he might prefer to be a loner than to continue to be second fiddle to the guy he considers his closest friend in the world. Instead he just says, "I'll see you in 20, Berry."

"Bye, Noah." Rachel ends the call and concentrates on finishing her math problem—it would be irresponsible to leave it half-solved—before she calls Finn.

When Quinn doesn't come down after ten minutes, he trudges back up the stairs to pound on the guest room/office door again. Quinn ignores him, though, so he shoves his way into the room, disregarding her shriek of protest (he's seen it all before—seriously who does she think put that fetus in her stomach?) He says this, and she rolls her eyes but stops shrieking, so he considers it a success. "What are you doing? We were supposed to be leaving for Matt's like three minutes ago."

"Don't you feel like shit? How can you want to just go hang out like your life is normal?" She looks up at him all sad, and he plops down on the pullout couch next to her.

"Yeah, I feel like shit. I know knocked up my best friend's girl, but things aren't gonna get better if we hide out. Matt reached out to us and invited us to his, and I said we were gonna go, so I'm going at least."

Completely unexpectedly, Quinn bursts into tears.

"What the fuck, Q? Why are you crying now?" Puck honestly can't handle many more tears. There have been far too many in his life since Finn found out that the baby is Puck's. (Thanks, Berry), and if Quinn doesn't do anything to control this, then they're going to have a problem.

"I don't even know," she sobs, flopping back dramatically on the pullout couch and throwing her arm over her eyes. He drops a hand on her legging-clad thigh and rubs reassuringly. "I just feel like I can't even control myself right now. I never know how anything is going to make me react."

Puck lays his body down next to her so they're both staring pensively at the ceiling. "It's the hormones, Q. It'll get better, I promise."

She shoots him a sidelong skeptical glance and then rolls her eyes before looking back at the ceiling. "How do you know?"

He smirks at the ceiling and pops up from the bed, striding from the room. She looks at his back in total confusion. "Puck, you can't just leave in the middle of a conversation like that. This is so typical."

She crosses her arms over her chest and glowers at the ceiling. Just as she's getting herself really worked up, he bangs back into the room holding something behind his back. "What the hell was that?" she asks, still focusing on the ceiling.

"You'll see in a sec. Keep your pants on."

"Trust me, Puck, they're never coming off in front of you again."

"Jesus, it's an expression." He lays back down the bed and pulls a book from behind his back and tosses it on her still (mostly) flat stomach.

She sits up and the book is literally the last thing she expected to see. There's a bookmark about a third of the way into a pregnancy book. She just stares blankly at him for several awkward seconds before she flips the book open to the marked page. _"Hormone levels do increase during pregnancy leading to mood swings and unpredictable emotional reactions. The sooner you and your partner accept this, the easier it will become to handle these unpredictable swings."_

Quinn looks up at him and gapes. "You're reading this?"

He shrugs sheepishly but doesn't say anything. "Puck," she shifts uncomfortably. "We can't keep this baby. There's no way we're prepared."

"Maybe," the shrug he offers is non-committal, "but this book talks as much about what the mother is going through while she's pregnant as it does the baby's first few months. I'm reading it because I told that I'd be here for everything, and I can't do a good job of that if I have no idea what the fuck is going on with you."

Her jaw drops and she glances between the book and him.

After several moments, he breaks eye contact. "Fuck, Q, is that so unbelievable?"

"Kind of, yeah, I've never seen you read anything that you're required to never mind voluntarily."

He picks up the book and stands abruptly. "Look, we're having a baby together, but we don't know each other at all. We'd do well to remember that." He stares hard at her. "I'm leaving to pick up Berry in five minutes. If you want to come, be ready."

When he gets back to his room, he chucks the book toward the opposite wall and gets a modicum of satisfaction from the crash it makes when it knocks one of his elementary school baseball trophies off the top of his bookshelf. But when he gets to the kitchen and sees Quinn standing by the front door in a sweater and jeans, holding her coat over her forearm, all the anger from her still doubting him comes rushing back, so he brushes past her, leaving the door open for her to follow without a word.

They ride in total silence to Rachel's and the truck is barely stopped before Puck cuts the engine and jumps out without a word to Quinn. As he's swinging the door to his truck shut with a little more force than absolutely necessary, he hears her scoff and he's already so sick of her antics that he kicks the front tire of his truck as he walks past.

Quinn watches him as he kicks the tire and then shuffles up the walk to Rachel's front door, hands buried in the pockets of his jeans and shoulders slumped. He pushes the doorbell and then waits and she watches him give Rachel a small smile and ruffle her hair affectionately as she opens the door and steps aside to let him into the house. They disappear from her view after that easy interaction. She wonders how Rachel and Puck can interact so easily and effortlessly when they don't even know each other, yet she's been friends with him since the sixth grade, and they can't even talk without fighting. Maybe he's right; they don't know each other at all.

At Matt's, Puck dutifully helps Quinn from the truck, and she watches again as he chuckles genuinely at Rachel's insistence that she doesn't need any help getting down from the seat even though her head is literally up to the side mirror. Rachel jumps down though, and she's damn graceful in the action. Quinn can't believe it when Puck laughs when the brunette pulls a little curtsy, and she wonders where his foul mood has gone.

Apparently not far, she realizes a couple minutes later, when they enter the house and Rachel flits over to Matt and Mike and she and Puck are left alone. His hands immediately go wrist-deep in his pockets, his shoulders sink and he glowers at the TV, pointedly ignoring her. She puts up with it for about two minutes before she elbows him none-too-gently. "What's your deal?" she hisses under her breath, because the last thing she wants is to make a scene at Matt's little gathering.

He turns to her, hands still pocketed, shoulders still slumped, but he towers over her nonetheless. "My deal is that you don't understand one single thing about me, but we're going to be living under the same roof for the next six months, so we're going to have to figure out a way to make it work."

She bristles. "I think, Puck," she spits, "that I understand a few things about you. I have living proof that we slept together, for instance."

"Jesus, you really don't get it, do you? We had a dirty, slutty fuck because I like women and you felt fat and rejected. It would mean nothing and we wouldn't be talking to each other right now except for the fact that I made an idiotic mistake because I was drunk on your beauty and you let me because you were drunk on my wine coolers. We're like ammonia and bleach together, alright? We're fucking toxic."

She looks at him in shock. "I know shit," he bites defensively. "Fuck, you're just proving my point, aren't you?" He throws his hands in the air and stalks through the living room. Music is pumping, alcohol is flowing and John Carter and Alex Green, a couple of soccer players, are squaring off in some violent video game, but Santana, Brittany, Matt, Mike and a couple sophomore cheerios track his progress with their eyes. Rachel, however, bounces after him, right out onto Matt's back deck, sliding the glass door carefully shut behind them.

Quinn feels her face burning with humiliation as she follows the duo through the living room. She slides the door open and steps undetected onto the deck. She can hear their voices around the corner, and she's about to step into view and tell Rachel Berry that she should get her giant nose out of their business before Puck hurts her when she hears the boy in question speaking in the same gentle, earnest tone he used to reassure her that he would be there for her and the baby once the truth came out.

She can't see them, but she hears him clearly. "Is really so unbelievable that I'm invested in this? I said I would be."

Rachel doesn't respond immediately and when she does, it's obvious that she's choosing her words carefully. "I can see why she's so surprised that you're throwing yourself into it so enthusiastically and in that particular way. I'm not, Noah, but you don't let most people know that you have anything to you other than a dumb jock who's really good at football and really likes sex."

"She doesn't know anything about me. Today it was like she was even surprised that I can read. Of course I can fucking read. I'm sixteen years old."

"Noah, look at this way. You barely let people see that you can sing—even now that you're in Glee."

"Well, can't you fuckin' see why?"

"Maybe if you hadn't hid this side of you in the first place then people wouldn't be so surprised when it pops out."

Quinn sucks in a breath, pitying Rachel in that moment. She knows from experience that Puck doesn't like it when people talk back to him. But his response isn't loud or violent or laced with expletives. In fact, it's literally five minutes before there's even a response. Just about when she's going to walk around the corner to make sure Puck didn't silently kill Rachel, he speaks. "When I was five, I was watching the Super Bowl with my dad. I memorized the teams and the important players, and I was ready to sit through the whole game with him because I wanted to have _something_ in common with him for the first time ever. So I sat through the whole first half, I didn't ask questions because I knew that he hated it when anyone talked during football games. At the time, I didn't realize that it wasn't normal for father and five-year-old son to sit in silence for an hour and a half while father watched football and sucked down six beers, but that's exactly what happened.

"So then halftime came, and we watched the show. And I thought it was _awesome_. That was the day that I decided that I had to know how to play the guitar. When it was over, I looked at him and said the first thing I'd said since the game started. I told him that I wanted to be just like the lead singer of that band. And he looked me in the eye and said 'no son of mine is going to grow up and be a f****t. So after that, I was raised to believe that a man was only worth anything if he was a jock and pretty much an idiot. So no, I've never been able to not hide this side of me."

Quinn isn't surprised to feel tears running down her cheeks. She's so emotional and the story that she had accidentally heard was so heartbreaking that she can't help it. Rachel's only response was a soft "Oh, _Noah_," and Quinn knows that if she looks around the corner, they'll both be too preoccupied to see her.

She's right. Rachel's back is to her, and she's wrapped up in Puck's arms. He has his face buried in her hair, and Quinn can tell that she's running a soothing hand over his spine. She doesn't know what to make of this information, except it makes her feel really guilty for actually thinking that Puck was exactly what he presented (who really is?) and knowing that there's no way she's going to be able to live under the same roof as him for six months without telling him that she heard this conversation.

But for now, she just turns back into the house and tries to forget what she witnessed. She can't seem distracted because Santana will totally call her on that, and she knows that if she tells anyone what she saw, Puck will only spare her life because she's housing the baby. There's a reason that he tells Rachel things that he doesn't tell anyone else. Trust is not something he gives easily, and Quinn doesn't have his, but she wants to work toward it, she's decided.

She goes back into the living room, and everyone is there except for Puck and Rachel and Santana and Matt, which has actually put a serious dent in the party since the original guest list only had about ten people on it. She decides to settle down on the couch between Mike and John Carter and feels slightly comforted when Mike rests a friendly arm around her shoulders. She's glad that she can turn to these people again because she knows that Rachel was right when she said that she was going to need people over the months of her pregnancy.

They sit there for awhile, Quinn just watching Mike and John Carter dueling at some violent video game. Once they're done, Mike does a hilarious (and kind of amazing) victory dance in front of the TV, and John scoffs and nudges Quinn's shoulder lightly. "Hey, I know you're Quinn Fabray. I'm John Carter."

She smiles at him and shakes his offered hand. "I know who you are. But it's nice to officially meet you."

"You too," he smiles broadly at her and Quinn can feel herself blushing. "Hey, look, how are you?"

She looks at him strangely. "I'm alright, thank you."

He laughs at how confused she looks. "I meant with the whole Puck/Finn/baby thing, that's all. It's alright if you don't want to talk about it, since you don't know me, but I figured someone other than Puck or Finn should offer."

She smiles a little sadly. "Well, Finn hasn't offered, but I don't really expect him to, you know?" She shrugs one shoulder. "I really hurt him, I think Puck hurt him more, so it's going to be a while for the three of us. You probably don't want to get in the middle of all this." She can't believe she's having this conversation with John Carter, who she's never spoken to before, in Matt Rutherford's living room with Mike Chang popping and locking in front of the TV and Alex Green and a sophomore cheerio getting handsy on an armchair.

"I don't mind. If you need someone to talk to, I'm happy to be that person." He smiles at her, and then pushes his lanky frame from the sofa and tilts the bottle of beer that he's been holding at her. "Quinn," he nods and then he's gone and she's just downright confused about what just happened.

She doesn't have long to think about it though because the door to the back deck slides open and Rachel steps back in, followed closely by Puck, who has a hand gripped tightly over her shoulder. They walk straight through the living room and then come back moments later, each gripping a can of Bud Light.

Puck selects an armchair next to the couch Quinn is seating on. He offers her a curt nod and rests an arm on Rachel's thigh when she sits on the arm of his chair and settles an arm over the back.

It's late when Puck and Quinn finally get back to his house. They dropped Rachel off just before her one AM curfew and then Quinn made him take her to the DQ on the opposite side of town because the one on the main drag is the only ice cream place open that late at night. He buys her an Oreo blizzard and smiles at her when he hands it over the stick shift.

At his house, she follows him down to the basement and his room, and he tosses her the TV remote when she settles on the couch with her feet tucked under her. They fight a lot these days, but they've also developed a comfortable, quiet rhythm when they're together at his house. She does what she wants (watches TV, reads, does her homework), and he does what he wants (watches TV somewhere else, watches TV with her, works out, plays video games), and they've just developed an easy routine. But tonight, things are awkward, thanks to their uncomfortable non-fight about his pregnancy book. She turns on ABC Family, and Gilmore Girls is on (yep, he recognizes it—Quinn likes it and Alexis Bledel is smokin'), so he ducks into the bathroom and spends a lot of time flossing and brushing his teeth and just sort of looking at himself in the mirror. It's really all he can do, because he doesn't feel like talking to Quinn yet, but he knows it's going to have to happen before either of them goes to bed tonight. They're like a cliché married couple like that—neither of them enjoys going to bed angry. It just makes things more awkward come morning which is something they definitely don't need.

When he finally can't find anything else to entertain him in the bathroom, he wanders slowly out of the bathroom and flops on his bed on his stomach, feet hovering over his pillows. He tucks his hands between his chin and his comforter and watches as Rory and Lorelai (yes, he knows their names) exchange fast-paced comments about some stupid event. Quinn loves this show, so he's become more accustomed to it in the couple of weeks since she moved in, and for a super girly show, it's really not that bad. He can sit through it usually, just looking at Alexis Bledel (and really the chick who plays Lorelai isn't so bad, either, especially in the later seasons), but tonight, he's just too distracted by his disagreement with Quinn and his conversation with Rachel to even think about how hot Alexis Bledel is all the fuckin' time.

The credits start to roll on the show, and Puck bounds across the room and flicks off the TV and then sits down on the coffee table right in front of Quinn. "Alright, look, Q—" he starts, but she can't hold it in any longer.

"I heard you talking to Berry on the deck. I'm sorry I didn't mean to."

His eyes immediately snap and he crosses his arms defensively over his chest. "What the fuck? That was a private fucking conversation. There's a reason that I told Berry all that shit and not you."

"I know, and I swear I didn't mean to overhear it. It just sort of happened."

"And when it just started happening, you couldn't stop it? If you walked away, Quinn, that would have stopped it—or stopped you from hearing it."

He stands up and just sort of stares down at her for a couple moments before he starts to pace in front of the couch. "I know. You just started talking, and you never tell me anything personal about you, and I just wanted a glimpse into your life. That was tragic, Noah."

"Puck," he corrects pointedly. "And it's not just about me. What if Rachel had said something? You tormented her for years; I'm sure she still thinks any information you have could be used against her at school."

"But she didn't say anything! Anyway, if you're having such a private conversation, try not having it at a party."

"You saw Berry and me go outside. You knew that I was pissed off at you. You're not fucking stupid, Quinn. You can put two and two together and make four."

"I'm surprised you can," she spits, rising to her feet and drawing herself to her full (not all that impressive) height.

"Don't you pull all that Sue Sylvester protégé intimidation bullshit on me," he warns with an accusatory finger pointed directly at her. "And that bitchy little remark right there is exactly why I talked to Rachel."

"She's Rachel now, is she?" Quinn knows she's being immature, but it's like she just can't back down from this disagreement. She doesn't think she's at fault for what happened, so she's just going to keep on arguing, no matter how far the subject matter deviates from the original topic.

"Yes, she's Rachel now, alright. We're friends. She's probably my best fucking friend right now since apparently, I'm the only one that had sex to make that little girl in your fucking stomach."

Quinn sighs. It's been evident for a while now that, with the exception of Finn's non-discriminating cold demeanor, Puck has shouldered all the blame for their little roll between the sheets. "I'm sorry that you're taking all the blame for this. I know it's not fair."

"It's alright. It's not your fault, and you've actually got the kid in you, so I guess you probably have enough to worry about," he offers resignedly.

She offers him a small half-smile and wonders where his anger has gone. The ebb and flow of his emotions is nearly impossible to keep up with, and she thinks he might be just as bad as she is. "I'm sorry I eavesdropped. It's just that you keep emphasizing how we don't know each other, but if we don't share stories like that, then we're never going to get to know each other."

Puck looks at her for several long moments and the nods. "You're right. It's just really easy for me to talk to Berry for some reason, so I do, but I'll try to tell you more Quinn. Don't worry about the eavesdropping, alright?"

She nods slightly, and without realizing what she's doing, she takes a few quick steps to him and presses a chaste kiss to his lips before she wraps her arms tightly around him. "You have the potential to be a good guy, Puck. Don't forget that."

He runs a hand up and down her spine and then squeezes her tightly before releasing her. She smiles at him a little bit and then disappears up the stairs without another word. He falls back onto the couch and flicks on ESPN, knowing he's going to be doing a lot of thinking before he'll be able to fall asleep tonight. Promising an in-depth report on the championship prospects of the Cleveland Cavaliers when they return, ESPN cuts to commercial, so Puck pulls out his phone and taps out a text to Rachel: _who knew someone who could talk so much could also listen so well, thanks again, b._ Then, wishing he remembered to replace the six pack he keeps in the back of his closet, he settles in for a long night with his thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

Just to be clear, he doesn't usually get to school this early, but Eliza has a field trip or something and she has to be at school early, and he always drives her to and from her elementary school. After dropping her on the curb outside Lima's only public elementary school, he stops at the only Starbucks in town and entertains himself for twenty minutes by ordering a coffee and hitting on the marginally attractive barista that he would never actually date. Once he gets bored with that, he decides that instead of just driving around aimlessly and blowing gas that he's gonna have to pay for, he'll just get to school early and go flirt with the new Home Ec teacher who's fresh out of college, super blonde, and super hot.

After dumping his backpack in his locker (he's seriously less sexy to older women when he's carrying a fucking backpack—it's like a tattoo reminding them that he's still in high school), he starts traipsing through the hallways. And this is how he finds himself wandering past Berry's locker when literally no one else is in the halls.

Someone—someone who seriously sucks, he might add—has decided to do a little redecorating of her locker, and he doesn't like it at all. He knows he started all this bullying of her, and he pretty much hates himself for it because she's totally awesome, and high school blows for her, thanks to his need to fit in. He knows he's an asshole, but it's moments like this in which he remembers how much he sucks sometimes.

So he goes ahead and moves it. What-the-fuck-ever. No one has been kinder and more accepting of him and Quinn since their whole situation spilled than Berry has been, and he doesn't know why Quinn keeps repaying her with this infamous ice queen act. It's not cool, and he doesn't like it, but taking up for Berry is more of a social risk than he really has the margin of error for these days. Even as he thinks that, he's knows it's an asshole thought, but he can't help the fact that he kind of is an asshole.

He pins the sign across the hall from Berry's locker, and then turns back down the hall toward the Home Ec room, missing the icy, scheming glare of his blonde, pregnant girlfriend—or whatever she is. He spends the half hour until the warning bell leaning against Jayne Harrison's desk, flirting and flattering. When he leaves to go to his first period class (he does go to lit; he secretly likes that stuff), he strategically avoids Quinn, if for no other reason than she is a pain in the ass about 99% of the time.

The next time he sees the Glist, it's in Schue's hand and he's being accused of making it. He doesn't like the way the entire room is staring at him, eyes squinted, all clearly thinking the same thing—that it was his doing. Seeing the way Berry is looking at that list makes him wish it was never made, but then he looks at Kurt and Mercedes and he remembers why he's also kind of glad it was. Those two deserve to be knocked down a peg or two because seriously—thinking they're better than Berry? What the fuck kind of drugs are they on and where can he get some?

But anyway, the entire room of idiots is staring at him, led by Schuester, so he's not surprised when he's asked point-blank if he did it. He doesn't get pissed until he says no and no one believes him because that shit isn't cool. He draws himself up to his full height and looks Schue straight in the eye. _"I'm a delinquent, sure. I like setting stuff on fire and beating up people I don't know. I own that, but I'm not a liar."_ He's more than a little offended that that isn't the end of Schue's questioning of him, but there's not a whole hell of a lot that he can do about it, since he can't very well throw Quinn (who he's sure is the actual culprit) to the wolves—she is carrying his child. And it's a little comforting that he isn't being singled out in the continuing questioning, but he still knows everyone thinks he did it, and he's not happy about that.

Like he said, he doesn't really see the point in throwing the real culprit (Quinn) under the bus. The ensuing drama would definitely be a bunch of bullshit that he doesn't want to deal with—the blame would be spun back to him somehow anyway since everyone thinks he corrupted the angelic good girl long ago. But he wants to tell her how shitty it was of her to screw Berry in the rankings and then to put it on her locker to make sure she sees it.

Seriously, though, he can't believe that Schue doesn't believe him. He doesn't have much ground to stand on, he knows, but he's more badass than a motherfucking list, and Schue should give him a bit more credit. Anyway, if he'd done it, he'd be number one by a landslide—everyone knows that he is the most badass motherfucker at the school. And he definitely tells all that shit to Schue when he gets questioned one on one.

Also, he doesn't tell Schue this, but he's not that much of a coward. He tells this kind of shit to people's faces all the time; he doesn't need a list to remind people that they're lame (honestly, Schue should use his brain-has he forgotten the slushies?) This list has Quinn's passive-aggressive nature written all over its scathing rankings. But he's already promised her that he'll do everything he can to make sure that her pregnancy is as easy as possible, so he's not going to throw her under the bus. He's not taking the bullet for her, either, though. He's already taken plenty for her, and he can admit (at least to himself—it's a start) that he doesn't want Berry to think he did it.

Which is why, when he completely randomly and mysteriously ends up at her house the night the Bad Reputation project is assigned, he asks her if she really thinks he did it even though he denied it vehemently in front of the entire club. Rachel's always had more faith in him than most people have and so the question that he doesn't want to ask just tumbles from his lips, and he hates how vulnerable he feels when she says it seems like something he would do. He's not too happy that she thinks that he thinks that little of her because he really doesn't. He was actually pretty psyched when she asked him to come over. Making out with her when they were together was super hot, and he wouldn't mind starting that up again. It's not like he would be sacrificing anything in the sex department—for all his talk of being a sex shark, he really isn't getting any. Quinn keeps him on too short a leash to call up any of Lima's housewives or Santana, but she's not exactly putting out either. He's pretty much only allowed to hold her hand and listen to her bitching.

However, he does appreciate the way she accepts his explanation of his uncontrollable urges to be an ass. And her response is pretty fucking cute, actually, the way she gets all worked up and closes her eyes and just lets the rant pour from her mouth. He's been able to tell that she's trying to work on holding in her criticism, and he does appreciate it, but he isn't going to pass up on this opportunity to charm her.

So a little smile plays on his lips, he meets her eyes gently and laughs a little. _"It does suck when you do that."_ And then he flicks his gaze down to her lips and leans slowly in. He's about a quarter of a second from kissing her when she pushes him gently away and shakes her head.

FUCK.

The night just gets worse from there.

* * *

When her project tanks as badly as it does (at least with Finn and Jesse—the rest of the room just sort of pretends that they don't know what's going on and claps dutifully at the end) and when he realizes how truly shitty it really is, he doesn't take up for her. He really doesn't need to be associated with that anymore than he already has been so he just kind of watches as Finn and Jesse have pussy diva fits—he's obviously way too badass to do that anyway, and then after they sing "Total Eclipse of the Heart," he just lets Quinn pull him out. He doesn't really know why anyone is making such a big deal out of Berry's movie. Sure, he was expecting be the only guy, and sure, he got why Jesse was pissed, but Finn was just being his typical pathetic self. How did he figure Berry owed him anything? He jerked her around like it was his job. But he didn't protest when Quinn pulled him from his chair and clasped his hand with both of hers, tugging him from the choir room. He doesn't spare Berry a glance, mostly because his girlfriend (if they even really have a relationship) pulls him so fast that he doesn't have a chance. He feels bad, though, that everyone else is filing out behind them, leaving Berry totally alone with her broken heart.

However, he forgets about all that when he gets home and his mom washes his hair, and she finds the mole and he has to get fucking maimed.

* * *

The halls of McKinley fall completely silent as people see him, and it's not in the fuckin' sweet way that they did before he joined Glee because they were absolutely terrified of what he could do to them. Instead it's because they don't know what the hell happened to his hair, and for the first time since he threw the first slushie, he feels thoroughly powerless in the school halls.

It continues like that all day, and he's so sick of it by last period that he tells Mrs. Fernandez, his middle-aged, stick-in-the-mud history teacher (coincidentally, also the only female in McKinley—other than Sylvester—that he hasn't been able to charm) that he feels sick so that he can run to a bathroom and hide in a stall while everyone else gets their books and then gets the fuck out of there. He's surprised when she grants him permission by nodding and _smiling_ at him and even tells him that she hopes he feels better as he walks past. He thinks maybe the lack of Mohawk might help him in his constant battle against her.

He gets to the bathroom without incident, and he locks himself in the stall on the end. He can't believe all the stupid fuckers at this school. So he got a stupid haircut. What-the-fuck-ever. These losers should have more a life because caring about his haircut? Seriously lame. He's been in a downright foul mood all day because of all those idiots.

It's silent for a couple minutes and then the door creaks open and bangs shut and he can hear a couple guys shuffling into the room. He reads some scratches on the bathroom stall (mostly about Santana and the awesome head she gives—there are sketches, too) and tries to ignore the sounds of three or so guys pissing in the next three stalls over. It's pretty much silent until they're all out by the sinks and one of them (he recognizes the voice of a junior linebacker on the football team) says, "hey, did you see Puckerman today?"

Puck's ears perk up. He wants to know what these meatheads are saying about him. "Yeah, man, what the fuck happened to his hair?"

A third voice chimes in. "I don't know, but Puck isn't Puck without the 'hawk."

Abandoning his plan, Puck fixes his most menacing scowl on his face and throws open the door of his stall with a resounding clang. He glares at the three guys huddled around the sinks and mutters "get the fuck out of my way," before pushing past them, but he doesn't miss the amused smirks they pass around their little circle.

He gets an even more unwelcome surprise when he violently opens the bathroom and door and sees that he didn't hide out in the bathroom long enough. The hall is still teeming with students and he has to walk half-way across the school to get to the choir room. He tries to look straight ahead, but he sees all the people looking and hears the whispers that follow him.

When he slides into Glee rehearsal, everyone is already there, gathered around the piano. He shifts a little self-consciously in the doorway, and he doesn't have time to consider how much he hates the way the action feels (Puck _does not_ get self-conscious) because Rachel Berry turns around and her jaw drops.

(He doesn't notice that as much as he notices how fucking short—and sexy—her skirt is).

He tears his eyes away from Berry's legs and glances at Brittany. She's looking back at him with the most confused expression he's ever seen on her face, and he hears her whisper to Santana. "Who is that?"

Just like that his foul mood is back in full force. He had begun to cool off over the course of the day, but the combination of events since those dickheads from the football team entered _his _hideout in the bathroom to this moment in the choir room served to put him right back where he was. And fucking Glee certainly didn't help him cool off which explains why he's ranting to Santana Lopez of all people. His mood bottoms out when Santana looks at him for a long moment and then informs him that she's not turned on. He knows she's being a total lying bitch because he's still him, and he actually thinks that other than the tragic loss of badassness he might look even sexier than he did before. He's so hot that he knows he can pull any look off and he definitely looks a lot more sophisticated than he did with a Mohawk. But he is really concerned about how utterly unafraid everyone at school is of him. He wants to be popular again, and the only way he knows how to get there is the way he did the first time: scaring people. His plan of action as a freshman had been to slushie the drama freaks and other various capital L losers, beat up upper classmen (he was unusually strong for his age even at fourteen), and fuck Santana Lopez until he got a reputation and somehow he had become popular and Santana had become his girl along the way.

And honestly, he had always been pretty fucking okay with that. They never dated exclusively because they were basically the same person and it would never in a million years work, but they did have a mutual understanding that they could always come back to each other for a good fuck, and they actually made pretty awesome friends. They always had a shitload of fun together. Quinn had always been a decent friend to talk to (although she's kind of a bitch so he doesn't really trust her too much), but he's only ever had fun just hanging out with a girl (not hooking up) when he's been with Santana or Berry.

He knows how fucked up it is that he can't just have fun with a girl, but he's a guys' guy, and he's just not ashamed of that. He's pretty sure that Santana is just a guy in a really hot girl's body, but Berry is definitely a girl, and she's actually so cool (and he's simultaneously glad and sickened that no one realizes just how great she is) and just genuinely nice that it didn't take much for him to develop legitimate feelings for her even though it scares the shit out of him.

When he gets into his truck at the end of the day, tired, pissed off and Mohawk-less and thinks that at least he's seen the worst of it, he doesn't know how wrong he is.

That night, he knows even as he's doing it that he's taking out his terrible mood on Quinn and Eliza, but he does nothing to stop himself from treating them like total shit. He's less than surprised when Quinn decides that she would really like to not be his constant punching bag and talks about maybe moving in with someone else. It's not just because of his foul mood thanks to the haircut from hell. He and Quinn fight literally all the time about everything under the sun: which Dairy Queen to go to, what to have for dinner (which he always wins because Quinn can't cook, so he has all the control), how he takes care of Eliza (how the fuck is that Q's business?), and, of course, the baby. He actually thinks that time apart will be good for their relationship—they literally cannot handle all this time together. With all the fighting they do all the time, there's no way they'll ever be able to make a decision about what they're going to do with the baby whose due date is rapidly approaching.

* * *

He also wants her out of his house because she's totally throwing off his game with Berry. Her mere presence in every aspect of his life makes Rachel uncomfortable just because Quinn used to be so horrible to her—he hasn't figured out why she doesn't feel uncomfortable around him, but he's glad because she's already proving to be a great friend.

But he goes to bed that night thinking that tomorrow has got to be better than today was, and with that thought he actually is able to fall asleep decently quickly.

The next morning, Puck doesn't even make it into the building before Jacob Ben-Israel and his gang of sniveling, nerdy, perverted freaks surround him in the parking lot and use their combined strength to throw him in the dumpster. He knows that Mohawked Puck could have fought off all six, but he thinks he might have lost all his strength and doesn't want his social standing to fall anymore by losing a fight to Jacob and his clan.

As he's falling through the air, he can't believe that this is happening. He hadn't thought that things were going to get worse for him than they were yesterday. Baby or no baby, Mohawk or no Mohawk, he's still Puck, and he still rules that fucking school—or so he thought. Apparently, though, he's got some work to do. And so, he decides that dating Mercedes Jones might just be his ticket out of social hell.

* * *

The school day has been over for several hours, but he's sitting on the open gate of his truck with his guitar, strumming mindlessly as he stares across the parking lot at the dumpster that he threw ten of his classmates in earlier that day. He never thought he'd see the day when an original Gleek chewed him out, but Mercedes (yes, he learned her name) had laid into him about picking up his old habits again. It was even more surprising that she actually made him think about the choices he was beginning to make again, but every time he looked at Quinn, he wanted to be the type of person that that little girl would admire and be proud to claim as her father—even if she never met him.

The thing is he knows that he's not ready to be a father, but his old man is the dictionary definition of a deadbeat, and he couldn't bear it if his little girl thought of him the way he thinks of his father.

Ten minutes later, he finds himself cutting the roaring engine of his truck in Rachel Berry's driveway behind a silver Volvo convertible, a black Volvo SUV and Rachel's blue hybrid Ford Escape, informing him that all three members of the Berry family are home. He's actually not that miffed that the Daddies B are there since they've always been pretty great to him, unlike the vast majority of parents. He hops out of his truck and strides up to the door, knocking soundly. It's pretty fucking cold, and he's not wearing a coat. Fortunately, Rachel's bigger, African-American dad answers quickly, and he seems to recognize Puck. He opens the door more and gestures widely with his arm. "Come in, son."

Puck nods and smiles, rubbing his hands together before offering his right to the much larger man. "Thank you, sir. I'm Noah Puckerman."

Rachel's dad smiles back at him, shaking his hand and clapping him warmly on the back. "I know you. You're in the Glee Club with Rachel. I'm Rachel's father, Alex Berry. I assume you're looking for our little star."

"Yes, sir, I was wondering if I might be able to speak with Rachel for a few moments?" (And people say he has no manners! What is that bullshit?)

Alex claps his hand on Puck's shoulder again. "Relax, Noah, we're not about to throw you out onto the street because you want to talk to Rachel. Let me grab her for you."

Puck nods and Alex disappears into the house, leaving him alone in the entryway. He pulls out his phone, just to have something to fiddle with while he waits and sees that he has a text from Mercedes. "Puck, this charade ain't gonna work. You need to figure out a way to change, and you haven't yet."

He finds, even immediately after reading the text, that he's a lot less worried about Mercedes breaking up with him than he is about figuring out a way to change himself (he had sorta seen this coming, based on her rant at school earlier), but he doesn't have much time to dwell on that either, since Rachel comes into the entryway, visibly concerned. "Noah, hi, what's up?"

"Guess I just was in the area, decided to drop by." The lie feels bitter on his tongue, and he can tell that Rachel doesn't buy it, but she just purses her lips and nods and he kind of loves her for just accepting his answer.

"Do you want to have something to eat here? Or we could go to that diner around the corner. I'm starving."

"The diner sounds good. I love that place." His gaze shifts around the room, looking pointedly for either of her fathers, and she seems to understand the message because she wordlessly grabs her coat from the closet and shrugs into it.

"Dad, Daddy," she calls, hand already on the doorknob, "I'm going out for a while with Noah. I have my phone but I won't be gone long."

They respond in unison with a chorused. "Love you, star." He can't decide if he's sickened by their obvious affection or unbelievably jealous of it. For God's sake, how did she end up with two great dads and he got zero?

They drive in silence to the diner. They don't speak as they get out of the car, enter the small building and wait for a table. Rachel worries the cuffs of her coat sleeves between her fingers and watches as he shifts his weight from foot to foot every few seconds. If she didn't feel so awkward herself then she would be fascinated by his obvious discomfort. She's never seen him exhibiting such a total lack of self-confidence, but him and her willingly together in public is very unexpected, so it's not completely ridiculous that they're both so wholly uncomfortable. Fortunately, it's only a couple minutes before a tiny little booth in the back opens up and they're led to it by the friendly hostess. Neither of them knows at this point in time that this booth will become their spot in their place.

They're barely settled in the cozy booth when a middle-aged woman appears beside the table and smiles at them. "What can I get you kids?"

Rachel orders a mug of herbal tea and a Chef's salad with vinaigrette while he, typically, treats himself to an enormous (but well-balanced and healthy, she'll admit) meal of steak, mashed potatoes and a raw spinach salad. "Feeling a big dinner tonight?" she wonders, offering her first words since they got in his truck in her driveway.

"Nah, B, this isn't that much. I'll have more later. When you're building muscle, you gotta eat extra protein but you gotta keep your carbs proportional. Otherwise all that extra protein just goes to keeping your body functioning."

She just sort of nods, unable to find words, which she knows is rare for her. Predictably, only a couple of seconds pass before he smirks and meets her eyes across the table. "No words? That's a first. I wish someone else were here to witness this."

She'd probably be angry with him if the exact same thought hadn't literally just floated through her mind. Instead, she smiles and nods and then offers words. And once she starts talking, they both know she won't stop. "It's just _strange_, Noah. You and me out at dinner together, where anyone from McKinley could see us? I'm not exactly cool, and you're dating Mercedes, even though we all know it's for your reputation. But being out here with me is certainly not going to help your reputation. And I know you don't like Mercedes, so don't pretend that you do."

He smirks and shrugs a little. "We broke up. And I can't stand her."

"So why are you here with me? You tolerated Mercedes for a week to boost your reputation, and I know you don't particularly like me. So why are we here? I'm certainly not going to help your reputation," she repeats emphatically.

Putting down his menu, he straightens in his side of the little vinyl booth. "B, let's get our shit straight right now. I don't not like you. And you know I don't give a shit about my reputation. Jesus, I picked Glee over fucking football. Don't you remember that?"

"Of course I do, Noah, but a lot has changed then. Most notably, the truth coming out about Quinn's baby and you losing Finn's friendship and trust. I know how important trust is to you."

He scowls. "Berry, sometimes I wonder why you think you know anything about me."

She just scoffs and says, "because you tell me things," and his scowl only deepens as he settles back into his chair.

He knows she's right, but he hates it nonetheless, so he sulks in silence for five minutes, internally enjoying her shifting uncomfortably. He finally took pity on her when she gathered her hair into a ponytail for the fifth time in as many minutes. "Mercedes told me that she doesn't like the person I am."

Rachel meets his eyes. "Well, that's not entirely surprising. The person you pretend to be at school isn't particularly likeable."

He rolls his eyes and is saved from answering immediately by the arrival of the waitress with a glass of water for him and Rachel's mug of tea. "Thanks for reminding me of that," he grumbles, taking a healthy gulp of water and avoiding her eyes over the rim of his cup.

She slams her mug down, and scalding hot tea slops over the side. "Don't be like that. You know what I said, and you know I'm right."

Shocked, he raises his eyes to meet hers and sees fire in the brown depths. She's never spoken to him so assertively before, and he just raises a challenging brow and continues to look at her. "I said 'pretend,' and I chose my words very carefully so don't be all dramatic about it. I know you're not the guy you pretend to be at school. What I don't know is why you're so afraid that Mercedes noticed that."

He takes another sip of water in an attempt to keep his temper in check. "For a smart girl, you're pretty fuckin' stupid sometimes, Berry. You know that I don't like it when people know me, and you know that I don't tell people shit. Hell, you should know just from the way I reacted earlier that I don't even like it when people who I actually talk to figure stuff out. It's the way I am. I don't even like or trust Mercedes so I'm not thrilled with the idea that she's figuring me out, alright?"

"Why did you let her get close enough to date you, then?"

This is why he hates talking to Berry sometimes, he thinks, shoving his mouth full of pie to avoid answering her question immediately.

"Is it just because of your reputation?" she persists, and he rolls his eyes. "Because something doesn't fit there—if you hate her as much as you claim you do, and you care as little about your reputation as you tell me you do, then why did you tolerate Mercedes just for your reputation?"

He swallows the revolting amount of pie in his mouth and looks Rachel dead in the eye. "I care about my reputation, Berry. I just care about you more."

And for the first time since he and Rachel started this weird friendship, she is left confused by a comment he made, and he is left simply content.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I'm so sorry about the delay, but it's so hard to keep up with updating while I'm in school full-time and have so much going on. Plus I have some stuff that I've written that I really like coming up but I have to get through some of this filler first, and it's giving me terrible writer's block. This is going to stay canon through one more chapter (the end of season 1) and then it sort of veers off from there. I hope you enjoy!

She actually cannot believe that she's seeing this, hearing this. She's dreamed about this for much of her life, and now she's sitting in the auditorium of the rival Glee club between two girls who definitely _do not_ like her watching her mother sing Barbra Streisand. She never imagined she'd be here, but the tape from Jesse propelled her in this direction. And now, she's sitting here with Quinn and Mercedes, who are, surprisingly, sitting and showing her some compassion for the less than enviable situation in which she finds herself.

Shelby is doing exactly what she would do, right down to the song selection, and she is astounded by the similarities between the two of them. Considering the fact that taste in music can hardly be hereditary, she's amazed that both of them feel so emotionally drawn to Barbra. And similar to the attraction that she feels to Barbra, she doesn't even think she's in control of her body when she stands up from the shaded upper sections of Carmel High's auditorium and starts walking toward her mother. She can hear the rustling, urgent whispers emitted by Quinn and Mercedes, but she doesn't even register the words that are coming out of their mouths until she is out in the open and has committed herself to speaking to Shelby.

Once she's face-to-face with Shelby, she doesn't know what to say. Her voice catches in her throat and she has to swallow once or twice before she can even utter the fateful first sentence of the conversation: "Ms. Corcoran? I'm Rachel Berry. I'm your daughter."

The rest of the encounter with Shelby is a blur. Her mother apparently is less emotionally mature than her, an admittedly absurdly dramatic, control freak sixteen year old whose therapist has had to move into the Berry family guest room for an extended period of time on more than one occasion (and may well have to move in again after the emotional trauma of this encounter). However, after spewing some nonsense, Shelby stumbles out of the auditorium with a promise to call her but without her phone number. She pretty much just watches Shelby hurry away from her, flustered and unsure and then sinks back into a seat and stares at the empty stage. She's vaguely curious about where all of Vocal Adrenaline disappeared to but mostly she wonders why her own mother can't even stand to have a conversation with her. She's used to brushoffs from her classmates, to the point that she's suspicious of their motives when they do stick around to have a legitimate chat, but the people who are supposed to love her (her dads, her aunts and uncles and her grandparents) always, always treat her like they do. Shelby, on the other hand, brushed her off like they were both sixteen and in the brutal halls of McKinley High School.

All she really remembers from the conversation is the way her heart soared and swelled when Shelby labeled her performance at Sectionals as "extraordinary," and the way it plummeted to the bottom of her stomach when Shelby said that not having her dreams come true felt "like a broken promise." She knows all too well what that feels like. From the moment that she fell in love with Finn Hudson, she's had promise after promise broken, and she doesn't know how much more of that she can take.

* * *

Rachel is horrified when she walks into the choir room and she sees everyone else's Gaga outfits. She's wearing a dress with small stuffed animals _stapled_ on because her fathers can't sew, and, therefore, neither can she. She's standing in front of the entire club, while they're talking about her personal life, and seeing a frog fall off her outfit is humiliating and upsetting. She can even see the pity in Mr. Schuester's gaze. She has got to do something about this outfit or else she's going to hurt one of her teammates when the animals fly off her outfit when they're dancing madly to "Bad Romance" in their end of the week performance. She's down when she leaves school, but she has no idea that anyone else is paying enough attention to her to notice that she's so upset.

But someone did. Puck had watched her throughout rehearsal. He's worried about her and follows her out of school, but she hurries too much for him to catch up with her, so he's resigned to covertly following her to her destination, just to make sure she's okay. He doesn't really know why he does it except that her dress was pathetic with its falling stuffed animals, especially when compared to the efforts of the other girls (and Kurt) in the club. More than that, he was concerned by her attitude in the club meeting that day. She was spacey, detached and disengaged from the rest of the club. She didn't criticize anyone's performance—that had never happened before—nor did she dance during the Gaga number. She just stood there and sang.

He jumps in his truck and fires it up; it's not really made for stealthy, undercover missions, and he thinks Rachel might recognize it, so he stays a few cars behind her. As soon as they merge onto the freeway he knows exactly where she's going. When she takes the third exit from Lima and follows the signs for Carmel High School, he trails her and parks on the opposite side of the parking lot from her. When she clambers out of her little car, she's wearing a grey cloak that covers her dress and she hurries into the school.

It's only about twenty minutes later that she leaves again with the (super hot) Vocal Adrenaline coach by her side. She's still wearing the cloak over her Gaga outfit, but she's talking animatedly to the older woman. Her hands are flying everywhere, and she seems happier than she did in rehearsal earlier. They part and go to separate cars, but Rachel drives to the black SUV that Shelby got into and they drive off one after the other. His curiosity is piqued, but he has to pick up Eliza from dance, so he throws his truck into reverse and heads back to Lima.

* * *

He isn't 100% serious when he suggests Jackie Daniels as a name for his and Quinn's daughter, although it is what he was drinking the night before; he's mostly trying to get her attention for once. Even though they live in the same damn house, their communication has dropped to an almost non-existent level, and she has various members of the Glee Club giving her rides to and from school in an effort to minimize interaction with him to passing in the hallways at school and sitting in the same room a couple times a week for Glee rehearsal. They've made negative progress on the adoption process—that is, they've degenerated back into raging, emotional screaming matches about whether or not they should even give up the baby.

So basically, that's how he finds himself chasing her down the hall of their school and telling her that they should name their baby after a brand of whiskey. He isn't deluded enough to think that Quinn would ever agree to that but for the first time in several weeks, she actually stops to yell at him, so he considers that a victory for him. But she shoots him down more harshly than he anticipated and it stings, a lot. Quinn hadn't listened to him since their talk after Matt's get-together, and he just wanted to get her attention. Clearly he needs a new approach.

* * *

He hasn't spoken to Berry much at school, but they've been meeting up pretty often, and he's come to appreciate her presence more and more, especially in Glee. She's also the most important member of the Glee club; they can pretend that Mercedes or Quinn or Santana or Tina could pull off lead on some of their songs, but no one is as good as Rachel. He speaks without thinking, like he usually does, and immediately realizes how out of character his question was and tries to backtrack. The excuse sounds hollow to his ears, but he glances furtively around and everyone else seems to be buying it.

And if they don't, they're quickly distracted by the bomb that Mercedes drops on the group. He usually doesn't listen to anything that she says, but he lifts that rule on this occasion because she's talking about Rachel. (He ignores the possible implications and listens to what Mercedes is yammering about.) Her words make his heart plummet to the bottom of his stomach. He knows what it feels like to have a parent betray you, and he can't imagine how Rachel would react to finding her mother. He knew she was scared and that Jesse had been pushing her to get more information, and with Jesse and Shelby on Vocal Adrenaline, he didn't see any way that she would stay with their 12-member, second rate show choir.

When she says that there's no way she's abandoning ship, he ignores the way his chest loosens and he can breathe again. (He sort of knows what it means, but he doesn't know what to do with that information, so it's easier to pretend it doesn't exist.) He just chalks it up to his competitive fire and relief that they're keeping their star and by extension their chance of winning regionals.

His mind travels quickly away from his Rachel problems and to more pressing problems—his Quinn and daughter problems, namely how he is going to get Quinn's attention and actually make her believe that he is serious about being part of the process, no matter what that process ends up being: adoption or parenting. The girls and Kurt start their Gaga performance and he takes a momentary break from worrying about Quinn and their daughter to be really damn thankful that Finn had the balls to go to Schue and say that none of the guys (excepting Kurt, as usual) wanted to do Gaga that week.

When he gets home, he digs through some really bad memories in the back corner of the family garage. There are boxes upon boxes of things that his dad left behind lining the walls of their garage and he's never rifled through them before, but he's guessing his dad owned a lot of music that he could tap for Glee. His pain is rewarded when he finds an entire cardboard box filled with old KISS vinyl albums. He has a sweet record player in his room, so he lugs the box into the house and down to the basement where he lives.

As soon as he puts the album on the top of the pile on, he remembers why he doesn't know a single KISS song. It's really not his style of music, even though he's not typically picky about genre. But it would be really great if this song for Quinn could coincide with the Glee assignment for the week. He's just about to give up when "Beth" comes on and he sits up on his bed and listens carefully. It's perfect, and he can suggest Beth as a name instead of Jackie Daniels—this will definitely get her attention.

* * *

After everything that happens that week, from confronting Shelby for the first time to singing "Poker Face" with her and then letting her walk away to Puck's heartfelt Glee performance, Puck and Rachel haven't exchanged a single word. She's been wrapped in Jesse and he and Quinn finally start talking, and they both sort of put their weird, unspoken friendship on the backburner—until the Saturday night after the Lady Gaga week.

Puck and Quinn are missing a party at Brittany's house to look over prospective adoptive parents. Her due date is fast approaching, and they know that she could easily deliver the baby early—she's young. They can't agree on a single couple and they've been reviewing files for nearly three hours when everything comes to a head.

She vetoes couple number six because the mother has a career, and he finally flies off the handle. In his defense, today alone she rejected a couple because their last name is Greenberg (too Jewish), another because they live in Lima (he gets that one—he wouldn't be able to handle seeing Beth around every now and again—Lima's too small), a third because they were Baptist, not Catholic, a fourth because they live _too _far away (he doesn't know why she cares; she's already said she never wants to see the baby again) and a fifth because it's a single mom. He's pissed after that one because he and Eliza were raised by a single mom—Eliza more than him actually, and she turned out great. His mom's the best, even though he rarely says it to anyone, he really loves his mom. The problem isn't even that she's rejecting these people because he wants to be super careful picking the family that they're going to give their daughter away to as well, but she's shooting down all these couples immediately without even reading their entire profiles. They're never going to get anywhere if they can't even discuss a couple because Quinn literally throws the files on the floor after finding one imperfection. Papers are littering the tiles and he knows cleaning that up and reorganizing those are going to be a bitch.

But he's not really thinking about that right now. Right now he's thinking about how much of a bitch Quinn is all the fucking time these days and how he can't take it much longer. "Look, Q, I know you have standards or whatever but you can't throw away potential parents just because there's one little thing that you don't like. We're never going to get anywhere. No one's perfect, and we have to do this. You're being ridiculous. Sometimes I can't fucking stand your ice queen act. And for the record, my mom is a single fucking parent, and don't you dare say 'look how I turned out' because I'm not that bad, and I've been a hell of a lot more responsible with this than you have. And if you think that I suck, then look at Eliza, she's a fucking angel and my mom raised her completely by herself except when _I_ helped. So there. And," he's really on a role now, and he knows he's screaming but no one else is home and he just has to get this off his chest, "stop shitting on my mom. I know you're not Jewish and you don't like that we keep kosher and Saturday is our Sabbath and we don't recognize Christian holidays 'cause we're legit Jews, but my mom took you in and she feeds you good food every night, and she's taken you shopping for maternity clothes and given you a roof to live under. So fine, shit on me, be a bitch to me, whatever, I knocked you up, we got drunk and had sex and it was a terrible mistake—trust me, I know it was a terrible fucking mistake—but don't fucking blame my mom or treat her like shit because of it. I know she probably mutters about the fact that you're not Jewish, but she is a good woman so don't take your hormones out on her. And let me know when you're fucking ready to deal with this adoption thing like we're motherfucking adults, alright?" He doesn't wait for an answer as he turns on his heel and stalks across the room.

He's fuming when he stomps downstairs, and he's sort of pissed that he did the "Beth" thing because other than when there were tears in her eyes during and after his performance and she agreed he could meet his daughter, her attitude toward him hasn't changed at all. He flops down on his bed and curses Quinn under his breath some more. He also directs some colorful language at his fake ID (Nathan Pollard), his sex drive and his self-destructive streak. Just for once, he wishes that he could fucking make a decent decision instead of fucking up his life and everyone else's in the process. Just one fucking time.

A beeping from his dresser busts his little bubble of self-pity, and he gets up because he knows it's a text although not many people are texting him these days.

_I've had a hell of day. Can you go to the diner tonight?_

He smiles at the fact that she swore even if she just said "hell" and taps out a response on his stupid little flip phone. _I've had a fuckin' miserable afternoon. 7, yeah?_ Rachel is absurdly prompt with her everything in her life and responding to text messages is no exception so he stands next to his dresser waiting for his phone to beep again. When it does the message is brief: _perfect._

Suddenly the remainder of his day is looking a lot less bleak; now he just has to ride out the cold front upstairs until 7 and shield his mom and sister from Quinn's toxic attitude.

He ends up leaving his house at 6:15 because he can't stand the silence and the freeze out coming from his baby mama any longer, and he doesn't feel like explaining it to his mom and sister, and he knows Quinn will just stay in her room for the night if he's not home. When he gets upstairs, he pads down the hall to the guest room and tells Quinn that he's going out.

"Q, I'm out for dinner. My mom and Eliza won't be back until about 8, but I'll text them and let them know that I'm gone. I can ask them to leave you alone too. Do you want me to pick anything up for you?" Other than Quinn's stubbornness and refusal to acknowledge his role in the baby's life, her inability to cook is probably her most infuriating trait. She had grown up in a household where the mother was expected to have meals on the table for the entire family three times a day, so she never needed to learn.

She smiles slightly at him and nods. He can tell by the puffiness around her eyes and the red splotches on her face that she's been crying. Her nose is congested when she speaks. "Yeah, that would be great, Puck, you know I can't cook."

He tries to return her smile, but he can tell his facial expression is more of a mangled grimace. "Alright, text me and let me know what you want. I'll probably be back around 9, so there are snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry."

She sorta nods and smiles, and he gets the hell out of there before they can start fighting again. He doesn't know what the hell he's gonna do with his time between now (6:17) and seven when he's supposed to meet Rachel at the diner that's literally a five minute walk away, so he just grabs his keys and his gloves (it's cold as shit out there) and his iPod and starts walking away from his house. He finds himself sitting on the curb at the 7-11 at the end of his street, alone with his thoughts and a cup of hot chocolate. (He's always loved that shit, even if it's supposed to be for little kids.) And he's surprised by how quickly the time goes just sitting there thinking about Quinn and the baby (Beth) and Rachel and how things should be between him and Quinn and how things actually are between him and Rachel, and pretty quickly it's ten to seven and he hoists himself off the curb and ambles the remaining two blocks to the diner.

Rachel's little red chick car is already parked in the lot, but he can tell she's not in it, so he figures she's already snagged their table in the back corner. When he sits down across from her, she gives him a tiny, sad little smile, and it makes him want to gather her up in his arms and hug her until she isn't sad anymore. He never has that kind of reaction to anything that Quinn does, so he chalks it up to the fact that he's always wanted to bang Rachel Berry and he hasn't gotten it out of his system yet (it's too bad that you can't really lie to yourself). He asks her what happened to make her day so terrible, and that's all it takes to get her going.

"I'm just scared, Noah. I'm so scared." He doesn't know what she's scared of but after everything he saw his father do, his mind automatically jumps to the worst. He manages to keep his face neutral and she goes on soon enough that he doesn't have to storm out of the diner and beat up everyone that might have hurt her (although, that would include him). "I just can't fail. I've committed my entire life to becoming a star, and I know I'm damn talented, but I heard Shelby; I sang with Shelby—she is too. And she never made it. What if I don't make it and then I have no one to turn to except for my dads? "

Puck shrugs, but his reaction doesn't matter because Rachel is completely on a roll at this point. "Or even worse, what if they're so disappointed in me that I can't even turn to them? They want me to me a star as badly as I want it—maybe even more."

He can't let her go on from that point. She looks so genuinely distraught at the idea that if she doesn't make it big her fathers won't love her anymore that he has to jump in. And he honestly cannot believe that could ever be true. He's sure that there are no parents in the world that love their children as much as her fathers love her. "Berry," he cuts her off sharply because yelling at her or kissing her are basically the only ways to get her to stop talking after she's gotten going like this, and while he'd definitely rather kiss her, he's pretty sure there's no way that it would go over that well.

She kind of blinks at him for a second, and he's momentarily caught off guard because he didn't expect her to listen to him so easily. "Look, shit, Berry, your dads will love you no matter what you do. They think you shit gold, basically." She looks appalled by his metaphor, but he doesn't care and plows on. "Seriously, though, they will always love you. They want you to be a star so much because you've worked so hard for it. They know you deserve it, and they want to see you get everything you've worked for and deserve. And you're their little girl. They never want to see you sad or disappointed."

He know she's surprised by his insight, but he has a little girl growing in Quinn's stomach and he all of a sudden he thinks he might know a little bit about how a real father's mind works because he loves that baby so much it physically hurts to think about. He has never loved anything like he loves that little girl. She's just sort of staring at him, but she doesn't dispute anything he says, just smiles at the waitress when she comes and orders a salad and water. He's so thrown off that he has to take a second to figure out what's happening and he stutters over his order even though he gets the same thing every time he comes to this place.

She must just get it or she trusts him—either way it's something that no other girl has ever done before—because she just smiles at him and seems much calmer when she asks him why he's had such a miserable afternoon.

He doesn't want to explain everything to her because he hates it, and talking about it gets him worked up and she cares so much about everything that he knows it'll get her worked up too, but there's something about her that makes him spill every little thing that's on his mind even if he's trying his best not to. It's really fucking annoying, but she's just so sweet and innocent and trustworthy that most of the time he can't help it.

"It's just all this adoption shit with Quinn," he grumbles, rubbing his thumb against a knot in the wooden table and avoiding looking at her. "I lost it on her earlier." He meets her eyes with a sheepish smile. "I just couldn't stand her bullshit. She's just such a—" he trails off for several seconds and then just mutters "_bitch"_ emphatically.

She giggles and it's the sweetest sound he's ever heard and he just has to look at her. She has a hand clapped over her mouth and is obviously trying to stop laughing but he knows she totally agrees with his assessment of Quinn because of the way her eyes are sparkling. (Seriously, you'd have to be an idiot to not be able to figure out everything you need to know about Berry from her eyes).

He knows she's trying to scold him when she says his name, but it just comes out breathy and sexy because she's still laughing and all it does is make him want her more, which is pretty much always a problem considering the fact that he always wants her at least a little bit.

"I'm serious, though, Rach, she's just a spoiled bitch. She vetoed one adoptive mother because she was single. Like, seriously, a single woman could be a great option, and look at Eliza. She was raised completely by mom and she turned out great. I'm so fucked up because of my dad not because my mom was single."

She's not really responding, so he just keeps going without thinking. "A kid could bring a single woman so much joy and I just feel like that's such a bullshit reason to rule someone out. I mean I get why two parents is good, but I mean, one really loving parent is better than two, right?"

The question isn't rhetorical, but Rachel doesn't respond and when he looks up at her she looks like she's a million miles away and it's at that point that he thinks of her mom.

Then she looks at him and says in a voice that literally breaks his fucking heart. "I don't bring my mom any joy," and tears just cascade down her face.

He can say without a doubt that he has never felt like a bigger asshole in his entire life.

When he reaches across the table he's heartened that she lets him take her hand and she meets his eyes even though tears are still streaming heavily down her face. He rubs his thumb over the back of her hand and wipes her tears away with the other.

She gives him a watery smile and hiccups an "I'm sorry."

He thinks she's actually crazy. He's never been such a huge ass in his entire life. He sandwiches her hand between both of his and squeezes tightly. "Don't be sorry, Rach. Jesus, it's my fault. I should have known better; it's not like I don't know about your mom."

"Noah, you didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault my mother doesn't want me. You've been nothing but a friend to me this entire time."

He gets up and moves to her side of the booth and shoves her lightly over so that he can sit down before he gathers her into his arms and holds her close against his body. There's sort of a plus and a minus to being next to her in this situation. He can no longer see the tears streaming down her face, but instead he can feel the sobs wracking her tiny frame, compressed again his body. "Rachel, Rachel," he soothes, running one hand up and down her arm, the other buried in her hair, holding her head against his shoulder. "I know it hurts, trust me. I know as well as anyone how much it hurts but just because your mother can't be in touch with you right now doesn't me she doesn't want you."

Rachel pulls away from him and the expression on her face shatters his heart even more. He's never seen anyone look so broken in his life. "She doesn't want me, Noah. She doesn't. She set up this whole stupid elaborate scheme with Jesse to get me to find her because she signed a contract saying she wouldn't _fucking_ look for me and then she basically did anyway. And then she met me and she didn't even want me. What the hell? She's such a…" she trails off and he knows she's looking for a word and she just can't seem to find it.

"Bitch?" he offers with a smirk and she starts giggling again and just like that his heart doesn't feel quite so abused anymore.

When her quiet laugh subsides, he cups her face with a hand and makes sure he's got her looking right at him before he talks because he's only saying this once, so she better be listening and she better get the whole effect. "Look, I'm not in her head, but I can tell you right now that there are people in this world that love you and there are people in this world who want you in their lives. I guarantee your fathers love you more than you'll be able to understand until you have a child, and I want you in my life, Rachel. I do, okay?"

She sniffs and nods and looks him in the eye. "Thank you, Noah. I want you in my life, too. And I hope someday Beth will get to find out just how much you love her."

He just kind of looks at her while tears gather in his eyes. _Fuck,_ what is it about this girl?


	6. Chapter 6

He doesn't know why they're all being dragged to the auditorium when it's just a normal rehearsal day. It's the first day of the week which means Schue should just be giving them some bullshit assignment and maybe sing some stupid 80's song to them and then they'll be on their way but instead he heard through the Glee grapevine that Berry wants them all in the auditorium. He can't imagine that she has any performance for them, so he has no idea what to expect, but he is currently friends with her so he figures he should probably just go with it even though he's definitely suspicious of what's going on.

When he walks into the auditorium, Rachel is standing in the corner, nervously wringing her hands and gnawing on her bottom lip compulsively. He looks up to the stage and wonders what the hell is going on in here. He'd heard from Mike, who'd heard from Britt, who'd heard from Santana, who'd heard from Finn who'd heard from Rachel that it was an emergency, and everyone had to get back to

She's humiliated the moment Jesse comes out onto stage with the rest of Vocal Adrenaline. The text she'd received from him had read _I have a surprise for you and the club! Come to the auditorium for Glee! Don't worry, cleared it with Schue. _She knows he's still touchy about the whole "Run, Joey, Run" incident with Noah and Finn, but she's touched by his pointing out to her that he cleared everything with Schue—he knows and respects how she feels about rules. But she was so, so wrong. She played right into his stupid conniving hands; she betrayed her _teammates_ for what she thought was at least serious puppy love. But she had been completely wrong and at this moment in time she's paying for it in front of all her "friends."

At least she knows that she and Noah are friends now. They've been hanging out and talking a lot lately and although there's not a ton of interaction between them at school, the stuff they talk about isn't really school-appropriate anyway, so she's not surprised when she looks around at the faces of New Directions and Noah's is angry and menacing. His face is set in a scowl and his arms are crossed over his chest, his biceps straining against his shirt. She can't help but be a little turned on—he looks so masculine in that moment.

She is, however, surprised by how much sympathy she sees on everyone else's faces. Finn in standing just behind and to the left of Noah, surprisingly looking just as intimidating as his former (and future?) best friend does. And pretty much everyone else in the club is wearing varying degrees of sympathy on their face. (She's taking the look of very mild interest on Santana's face as at least a bit of compassion). She's hurt; she'll never deny that—she might even be heartbroken, but it also stings less because she knows that despite the fact that they warned her, they're not going to hold this particular mistake against her or ridicule her for it. And frankly, these are not the teammates she knows. The Quinn Fabray, the Santana Lopez she knows just simply don't like her and they have no sympathy for her. But for some reason, in this moment, they do.

Anyway, by the time Vocal Adrenaline is done with its horrifyingly perfect performance of "Another One Bites the Dust," Rachel wants to sink into the floor and never reappear because she simply cannot fathom how she'll every overcome this complete humiliation. She's also vaguely nauseous partly because of the way Jesse has stomped all over heart and partly because she logically knows there's absolutely no way their 12 person club can topple this fleet of singing and dancing robots that Shelby has developed and mobilized.

She can tell that everyone else is demoralized too because the normally chatty club is basically totally silent except for the occasional terrified comment as they walk from the auditorium to the choir room. She doesn't know who rounds the corner and stops short but the rest of the group piles up quickly and closely behind. They're all peeking over each other's shoulders and it doesn't take long to pass the information to the whole club. Someone (Vocal Adrenaline) had flung toilet paper all over the room, effectively re-decorating it. They're all completely depressed by the time Mr. Schuester gets to the room for rehearsal, and he can tell the second he enters.

Rachel doesn't know if they have enough soul, emotion and passion, not to mention unity to pull off a funk number, but she can't really keep her mind on the Glee Club that afternoon because it keeps betraying her and trotting on back over to Carmel High School, her mother and her (ex?) boyfriend. She wishes she knew what was going on with them. They have not really spoken since she made the "Run, Joey, Run" video and he went off to Los Angeles on spring break with his Vocal Adrenaline friends. Now, after the betrayal, she realizes that vacation should have been a tip-off. He missed an entire week of school to go to L.A. with kids from the rival Glee Club when he had never really made an effort with everyone else in their own club.

Now she knows they definitely spent that vacation scheming on the beach, practicing the perfect song for their little stunt in the McKinley auditorium and the most dramatic way to announce that Jesse had rejoined their group.

* * *

She's definitely wallowing in her own misery accompanied by sherbet, and _Love Actually_ (her absolute favorite movie ever) when she hears her front door swing open. She assumes it's either her dad or daddy so she doesn't move, mostly because it's her favorite part. Hugh Grant is dancing through his house, and she loves Hugh Grant. Therefore, she's appropriately surprised when Noah flops down next to her on the couch, his masculine scent enveloping her. "You should really lock the front door, B. Anyone could walk in, ya know?"

She glances at him, rolling her eyes and grinning a little before she lays her head on his bicep and gives her full attention back to the movie. Noah shrugs her head off his body momentarily and puts an arm around her, tugging her snugly against his side, his hand settling warmly in the curve of her waist. Her head is laid on his shoulder and he settles his own head atop hers. An hour later, he wakes up with a start, immediately feeling an ache in his neck. The credits of the movie are rolling and, at some point, she must have slipped down because now she's curled on the couch with her head pillowed on his thigh.

He's never really seen her sleep before (which isn't all that surprising—it would be creepy as fuck if he had), but he's surprised at how peaceful she looks. He supposes she needs a break at some point from all the intensity that radiates off her all the time when she's awake. But even after all she's been through that day, her face is totally serene.

When Leroy Berry pulls into his driveway at 5:15 that afternoon, there's a pristine antique Ford in his husband's usual spot and he wonders who his daughter has over that drives such a cool truck. When he walks into his house, there's a pair of red, white and black Air Jordans kicked carelessly into a corner and a McKinley High School letterman's jacket on his daughter's coat hook. He suddenly has a better guess of who is over _alone_ with his just-turned 16 year old daughter and he doesn't like it. But when he stomps to the sitting room, rage building and praying that they're there and _not_ upstairs, the scene that greets him also shocks him.

As he had suspected just moments before, Noah Puckerman is in his house; however, he is not defiling Rachel. Rather, the boy in question is slumped down on his leather couch, his daughter's head pillowed on his stomach, and his right arm wrapped over her body with his hand resting harmlessly on her outer thigh. Noah's watching old football highlights on ESPN Classic with the volume muted, and he seems content to simply act as Rachel's pillow for as long as Rachel needs to rest.

Leroy moves into the room so that he's in Puck's line of vision and the boy immediately meets his eyes and gives him a smile and nod in greeting. Torn between wanting to let his daughter sleep and wanting to know what is going on (Rachel never naps), Leroy settles on whispering "is she okay?" while motioning at his slumbering daughter.

Noah shrugs and nods a little. "I think so. She had a tough day at school though."

Leroy nods and stands still for a moment. He's not really sure that there's a section in a parenting manual on how to react to this situation, but he figures the Puckerman kid is nice enough, and it is his living room, so he settles into the armchair closest to Puck. "What are you watching?'

Puck looks over at him. "Super Bowl 3. I'm not a big Jets guy, but games are the only things that're decent to watch without sound, and I didn't want to wake up Rachel."

Leroy smiles at him. "Good man. I'd have to insist you leave my house immediately if you were a Jets fan."

"Not to worry. I've always been a Boston guy. Have to love the history and passion in that town."

Again, Leroy smiles. "A man after my own heart. I was raised in Boston. Hiram and I were married on Cape Cod when it was legalized."

Rachel shifts slightly, burrowing her face into his stomach, and he strokes a soothing hand over her hair as he responds to Leroy. "What made you and Mr. Berry choose to live in Lima, then?"

"Hiram's family lives in Cincinnati, and he teaches three days a week at the University of Michigan. As you know, I'm a doctor so I can work anywhere, and the offer that Hiram got really couldn't be passed up."

Noah nods, focusing his gaze on the television and continuing to run his fingers soothingly through Rachel's hair. It's only a few more minutes before Rachel stirs and stretches adorably, looking up at him through sleepy eyes. "You didn't have to stay, Noah. A note would have been fine."

He smiles, one of those genuine expressions that seem to only surface around her. "I wasn't about to leave you here alone, but your dad is home now."

She rolls over on the couch and her head slips down to rest on his knee so that she can see her dad. He tries not to think about how dangerously close to a certain reactive part of his anatomy her mouth is and instead focuses on the conversation between father and daughter.

"Hi, Daddy," she says sweetly, and he can tell from the tone of her voice that she's smiling. "How was your day?"

"Mine was fine, sweetheart, but Noah tells me that you had a tough one."

She shrugs one shoulder before sitting up and swinging her legs around to set her feet comfortably on the ground. "Jesse's a jerk. That's all it really was."

"Hmm, it sounds like you should pick the takeout tonight, and you can tell me all about it over dinner. Your dad has an event at Michigan tomorrow, so he's spending the night in Ann Arbor. Noah, son, would you like to stay for dinner?"

Rachel has to nudge him with her elbow to prompt an answer from him. No one has ever called him "son" before, and it caught him off-guard. "I wouldn't want to get in the way. I'm sure Rachel has a lot to tell you."

"Noah," she smiles up at him. "You were there for all of it, and we would love to have you, right, Daddy?"

Leroy nods his agreement. "Absolutely, as long as you can stand the vegan shit that Rachel is undoubtedly going to decide to order."

Puck nods with a grin on his face, not entirely sure how to react to Rachel's father casually dropping a swear into the conversation. Rachel, on the other, knows exactly what to do. She smiles, laughs and says "Daddy, don't swear. It makes Noah uncomfortable."

Leroy meets Puck's eye with a laugh. "Rachie, I get the feeling Noah's heard a swear word or two in his day. He may have even said one at some point."

Rachel glowers at her father and Puck can't help but laugh at the expression on her face. Leroy does too, and Puck gets the sense that this man, this man who has raised this amazing girl with so much talent and potential and heart and passion, is the first father (including his own) that has actually liked him. He's not sure how he managed to swing this, but he knows he's not going to do anything to jeopardize it. "Mr. Berry, I would love to stay for dinner. Thank you."

Using the picture perfect manners kind of makes Puck feel like a pussy, but the way Rachel looks at him with pure admiration in her shining eyes and her bright smile makes it totally cool to act like a complete spineless loser.

And at that moment he knows he is _so. totally. fucked._

* * *

She honestly cannot believe she was duped by Jesse again. The old expression that her dad used to say to her went "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me." She isn't entirely sure what a third time being fooled means, but she does know she's sufficiently ashamed, not to mention humiliated.

On one level, she has to hand it t to Jesse. He certainly knows how to orchestrate a dramatic scene for maximum effect and, additionally, he picked eggs with which to attack her, knowing that an animal product would deeply offend her on top of the certain embarrassment certain to come with any such assault.

However, the fact remains that this is the third occasion on which she had been thoroughly fooled by one Jesse St. James, and she cannot let it happen again. She's always prided herself on being a girl with a backbone and with a strong and resilient sense of self. Jesse had stripped her of all that and turned her into an unconfident, insecure mess, the kind of girl she used to look down upon. Even more concerning is his ability to convince her to let her guard down and pressure her to change the parts of her that were quintessentially Rachel. She had stopped recording and posting her YouTube and MySpace videos: not because she didn't have time for them now that she had a boyfriend but instead because he asked (told) her to stop. He had explained to her simply that he had told his friends from Vocal Adrenaline that she was revered and worshipped for her talent at McKinley just as he had been for his at Carmel. He couldn't bear his Carmel friends knowing just how low on the social food chain she actually was.

That should have been her first hint that he didn't love her as fully as he had claimed—or at least that his initial intentions weren't completely pure. Who falls in love in a music library in real life anyway? But even after this unmistakable oppression of her character, she had continued to let him into her life and heart. And even after she realized that he had initially been with her at Shelby's selfish request, she had forgiven him and allowed him that opportunity in the auditorium. Once again, he had her fooled, and he promptly humiliated her in front of the only people she knew who liked (tolerated) her—her Glee Club teammates. Then when he had asked her to meet him in the parking lot so he could explain and apologize, she was once again lured into his web of lies and deceit.

She has no idea how she manages to sneak back into the school and into the girls' locker room without anyone seeing her, but she's glad she can. Despite all the humiliation she has endured at the hands of other McKinley students, she doesn't think she can bear them seeing her like this. It's too much, plus she doesn't want to give them any inspiration for the future.

But the egging is how she finds herself in Noah Puckerman's truck speeding down the dark freeway at 11 o'clock at night. She's wedged rather tightly between Noah and Finn, and she's not really sure how she ended up here or how they convinced that this was something in which she should take part. But the fact of the matter remains that she is, in fact, in this situation. She knows that there is marijuana in the glove compartment, and she has a sneaking suspicion that the backpack at Finn's feet doesn't hold school books. She's not really sure what the plan is here, but she does know that Carmel is almost three hours from Lima, although at the speed that Puck drives, it's probably significantly faster. But they left at 8:30, so she figures they should be coming up on the school pretty soon, and she knows they got off I-75 about an hour or so ago.

She's the only one who's been to Carmel particularly recently, about a month prior when she, Mercedes and Quinn had gone to scout Vocal Adrenaline and to see Shelby. Rachel recognized the road they were driving on, and she knew that they were no more than 10 minutes from the school. Sure enough, it wasn't long before Puck was swinging his truck into the parking lot, picking a spot in a particularly darkened, secluded corner and turning off the car.

"Berry, you're DD," he informs her, as he digs in the glove compartment for the little plastic Ziploc with his weed and for the bowl and lighter Finn had bought him for his sixteenth birthday. Rachel can't even bring herself to care that he's declared her DD. It's not like she's going to indulge in alcohol no matter how much she might like something to take the edge off—after all she is only sixteen years old, and she's certainly never going to smoke anything as long as she lives. Just the thought of what it might do to her most prized possession—her vocal chords—is enough to make her cringe noticeably. She sits there in the middle of the bench seat in the cab of Noah's truck watching Noah and Finn pass the bowl between them and take swigs of Jack Daniels, which she knows is Noah's hard liquor of choice.

The radio is on, playing some rock station in the background and when "Freefalling" by Tom Petty comes on, all three of them end up singing their hearts out, and Rachel thinks, arranged properly and with the rest of the group on background vocals, that could sound really, really amazing. Finn is wonderful with the classics, and Noah's voice is underappreciated and incredible, and everyone already knows just how talented she is—she's definitely going to suggest it to Mr. Schuester.

But anyway, she's thankful when Noah reaches across her body to hand his piece back to Finn and says "last hit's all yours, man" and then twists the cover of the Jack Daniels back on and slides it back into its brown paper bag which goes into Finn's backpack once more. She supposes this means that Finn and Noah are sufficiently under the influence and thus prepared to do whatever they set out to Carmel to do.

Originally, Finn and Puck were going to egg the Vocal Adrenaline kids' cars, Carmel High and the auditorium, but Rachel had raised hell when Finn had proposed this plan because she refused to see any more baby chicks lose their lives in this war.

(Puck couldn't make her see reason—the eggs you bought at the grocery weren't ever going to become chicks, he thought everyone knew that. Those were the ones that the hen laid that were unfertilized. Sex. Ed. was the only class he _had_ paid attention in throughout his schooling. He knew his shit when it came to the birds and the bees.)

Anyway, Rachel's vehement protests had nixed the egg plan, so here they are sitting in Carmel's parking lot with no real plan as to what to do now. There's a pack of 24 rolls of toilet paper in the bed of the truck, so he's guessing the Carmel theater will be TP'd, but he thinks that if that's the only thing they do, it's pretty lame payback for what those pricks did to Rachel, led by the boy who claimed to love her.

So yeah, it's his idea to slash the tires of their ridiculous SUVs. Those cars are just another reason why the Vocal Adrenaline kids are just stuck up douchebags who don't deserve to get the time of day of Rachel or anyone else in their little dysfunctional club. Honestly, though, if they think their matching fucking cars make them cool, then they've got another thing coming. It's not really even a plan. It just comes to him and then it's happening. First he picks the locks on the school and deactivates the security system (don't ask how he knows how to do that—it's not something he's proud of and that's exactly what he tells Rachel when she does ask) and at that point, he still doesn't have the idea. They throw 20 rolls of TP all over the Carmel auditorium, tossing it over the rafters and through all the chairs. And Rachel surprises him by pulling some small packages out of her coat pockets. They're these little gold stars that kind of remind him of confetti and she throws them all over the place and _then_ (he thinks this is the best part of the whole prank and really of the whole night overall) she takes some gold star stickers and spells her name _in Hebrew_ on the table where Shelby sits to watch performances.

Then they go to the choir room and throw the last four rolls of toilet paper all over the place. Rachel marches up to the chair adorned with a little placard reading "Jesse St. James" and writes "fuck you" in gold stars right above the name. He laughs fully and then pulls Rachel to his side with an arm over her shoulder. "Good fuckin' work, B," tells her, squeezing her tight.

After he resets the security system, they're walking across the parking lot and his arm is still around Rachel. She stumbles a little on a step and her hip brushes his thigh. He feels his Swiss Army Knife bump against his leg from inside his pocket and the idea strikes him. Pressing his truck keys into Rachel's hand, he says, "you're not gonna want to be a part of what we do next, take my truck and go wait at the corner." He can see her hesitating so he reassures her. "Finn and I will be fine. I just know you don't want to know anything about this, okay?"

She nods, and he doesn't know what comes over him, but he leans down and presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, murmuring, "I'm proud of you, B." Then he's pushing her gently towards his truck and she's clambering in and driving away, turning the corner before she pulls to a stop and locks all the doors. It's dark out and kind of _creepy_.

Once the tail lights of his truck disappear around the corner, Puck pulls the Swiss Army Knife out of his pocket and turns to Finn, gesturing with the device. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" His eyes track from Finn's face to the knife in his hands to the tires of the nearest SUV and then back to Finn. He watches as realization dawns on Finn and a slow smile spreads across his face. They're each responsible for 12 cars so 48 tires in total and since they each have their knives on them, it goes quickly.

Then they're running across the parking lot and down the road, and Finn is giggling like crazy like he always does when he's high and has helped Puck with a prank and they're clambering into Puck's truck, Puck first so that he's the one pressed all tight against Rachel because he's not letting that be Finn. Just…_no_. But then Finn being all pressed up on Rachel is the least of concerns because the giant oaf has opened his mouth and started running it. "We slashed their tires, Rach. We slashed the tires on their stupid SUVs."

She whips her gaze around to Finn so fast that she jerks the steering wheel too and the whole truck swerves rather severely. He reaches over and corrects the path of the wheels so that they don't crash, and he realizes that it's kind of fucked that he's been drinking and smoking all night and he's making sure the designated driver doesn't crash his car. He sort of just watches the yellow dashes in the middle of the road go by because, _wow_ they're bright and fun and just straight up trippy and that's when he realizes just how fucked up he is. But it gets him through Rachel's rant about vandalism and destruction and shit, and he tunes back in just in time to hear her say "but thank you, Noah, no one has ever stuck up for me like that before."

"Huh?"

She snickers and he kind of wants to slap himself for his pathetic response. "Finn said the tire slashing was your idea. While it's a deplorable display of juvenile delinquency and vandalism, I do appreciate the sentiment. No one has ever cared enough to stand up for me."

He glances toward Finn and can tell that he has no idea what Rachel's talking about. He does, in fact, he skips class a lot but people don't give him any credit. He's not a total dumbass.

That doesn't mean his response will convey that. "Fuck that shit, Berry. You got me now, so you better get used to this."

Despite the fact that she's driving down a pitch black, back road, three hours from her house at 2 in the morning with her ex-boyfriend and his pseudo best friend both drunk and high out of their minds, she thinks that getting used to this sounds like just about the best promise.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

After the tire slashing incident, things fly by and suddenly, regionals are practically upon them. Schue brings them all to his miniscule apartment to lessen the blow of telling them that regionals are essentially do-or-die and not just for the Glee Club this year, but for its life. Everyone else just gives up—no one thinks that they can beat Vocal Adrenaline, and honestly, he doesn't think that they can either, but he thinks he's the only one that's straight up pissed about the developments. He feels like every time he actually puts a decent amount of work into something it ends up failing. It happened when he was a kid with his dad, it happened from the moment he started high school with football, it happened with Quinn and with Rachel (their ill-fated week long relationship earlier that year) and now it's happening with Glee Club. It's not like it's a secret that he likes and cares about Glee anymore so he goes ahead and speaks his mind, but it doesn't really seem to do anything to change anyone's mind. And when Finn speaks, he honestly does have a point.

If he weren't in Glee Club would he talk to all these losers? No, definitely not. Like, he _hates _Mercedes, she's just this diva who is really excellent on some songs but refuses to recognize her flaws like Rachel has, and he thinks Hummel's a pain in the ass. Obviously, Finn's always been his boy and he actually thinks their friendship is on the way back and he's known Rutherford and Chang from football. He and Santana go way back and he's always, always been cool with Quinn and Britt. But Rachel, who he's known his whole life, is totally different from what he always thought, and she totally doesn't get enough credit. He's realized that just because Artie can't walk doesn't mean he's not cool and isn't a great jam partner because he plays a mean electric guitar and he's the only person Puck's ever met that's anywhere near his match in encyclopedic knowledge of all genres and eras of music. And overall, Tina's just a pretty solidly cool chick, especially now that she doesn't stutter over every sentence anymore. But honestly, no, he would rarely interact with Mercedes or Kurt. After all, what the fuck would he talk to them about? Even now, with them all in Glee Club together, he rarely talks to them more than the requisite nod of acknowledgement in the hallways. But he figures since everyone else is being honest and writing the obituary of Glee then he's gonna be honest about what'll probably happen after it's over.

But anyway, that whole phase passes pretty quickly and it's only a week or so before they find themselves with a six-minute Journey medley to arm themselves against Aural Intensity and Vocal Adrenaline. It's obviously a given that Vocal Adrenaline will be prepared and fantastic, but he's pissed that Aural Intensity is doing a mash-up of Olivia Newton John and Josh Groban. Obviously someone wanted them to know who the judges were, and he'd put his money on a fellow judge that had been known to sabotage New Directions before and would be the direct recipient of any reallocated funds in the event that the Glee Club was discontinued. He knows that Rachel is right though; there is no point in worrying about what Aural Intensity is doing or did or did not know before the competition because they're here, they have their songs prepared and ready or not they're slated to go on in thirty short minutes.

They're literally no more than one minute from their music starting and it being show time when Finn catches Rachel's eye and starts walking toward her from where he's slated to enter the auditorium. He has this soft look in his eyes that she loves but can't let herself love too much because she has to sing in less than sixty seconds and she needs to concentrate.

When he whispers those three words to her, her heart should be swelling in her chest and soaring and they should be simultaneously making it hard for her to breathe and making her feel so happy, so completely that she feels like she's invincible. Instead, she notices that the top button of his dress shirt is undone and his tie is a little crooked and poorly knotted, making him look just a little too rumpled and casual for the occasion. He still looks good though, even if his shoulders don't fill out the shirt like that other boy's do, even if the fabric is stretched over his broad chest in quite the same way.

But she can't focus on either boy right now. She can't think about the way Finn looked at her fifteen seconds ago when he told her those words she's been longing to hear from for what feels like forever, she can't think about how Puck looks in his black dress shirt and how his gold tie brings out the subtle gold flecks in his eyes, and she certainly can't allow herself to remember how her right thigh and side, pressed flush against Puck, were on fire for the entire three hour drive home from Carmel a couple weeks before even though the windows were down because Finn was convinced that he was burning from the inside out. She couldn't think about any of those things because she had to sing a Journey medley with both boys, the one that she used to be in love with but is starting to believe she doesn't even know and the one who she's getting to know every day and thinks she could fall in love with.

* * *

The performance goes well. Finn isn't too sharp on anything and Rachel sounds as beautiful as ever, and he remembers all the words to his one line in each "Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'" and "Don't Stop Believing," so he considers it an overall success. The excitement really starts just after the group has retreated to the green room when Judy Fabray shows up. He watches the exchange shamelessly because he feels like he has the right to for several reason, not the least of which is the fact that Quinn is 37 weeks pregnant (yes, he's keeping track) with his daughter. He sees Mrs. Fabray talking, but Quinn's back is to him, so he can't tell what she's saying or whether she's responding. Based on the frequency and rate at which Mrs. Fabray's mouth is moving, he's guessing that she's not letting Quinn say a whole lot in general.

When he hears the next words out of Quinn's mouth, he's convinced it some sort of fatherly sixth sense or instinct or something because she whispers them and it's obvious that no one else in the room hears because no one reacts or moves. He, on the other hand, stands up out of his chair so fast that it flies backwards and literally leaps over the coffee table between him and Quinn (why is there a coffee table in a green room anyway?) As soon as he's next to her, he's wrapping his arm around her waist and rubbing soothing circles over her baby bump with his other hand. She seems pretty calm, but he's not really sure how long that's going to last so he tightens his hold on her waist and starts to walk slowly, talking to her and Mrs. Fabray softly as he goes. "Which hospital is the closest? We gotta get you there, Q."

He thinks Mrs. Fabray is a pretty huge bitch for everything she did to her daughter after the pregnancy, but he's immediately grateful when she takes control of the situation, organizing the Gleeks onto the bus and ushering him and Quinn into the backseat of her car and taking them to the hospital. As he's ducking into Mrs. Fabray's car, he hears Schuester saying that someone needs to stay behind and be their representative at the competition. He thinks that sounds like it's a pretty damn good job for the director of the group, but he knows Schue's not gonna miss this shit. Instead, he hears Rachel volunteer. He knows, logically, that Rachel doesn't really like Quinn, and Quinn really, really doesn't like Rachel. Plus, the part of him that's always, always programmed to think about Rachel no matter how emotionally panicked he is knows that she probably needs to see Jesse and Vocal Adrenaline perform for some closure. If they lose to Vocal Adrenaline and she doesn't see it, he knows she'll never be able to accept defeat. Not to mention, she needs to be able to reassure herself that she doesn't Jesse or Shelby. So yeah, as much as he wishes he could have Rachel right outside the door while this is happening, it's ultimately about Quinn, so he keeps his mouth shut and runs his hands soothingly over Quinn's shoulders and back as Mrs. Fabray starts driving toward the hospital.

When they get there, he takes responsibility for getting Quinn out of the car and into a wheelchair and then for pushing that wheelchair as they follow a nurse back to the delivery room that's been prepared for Quinn, the only delay coming when they leave the Gleeks behind and Quinn stops the whole caravan and demands that Mercedes come with them. Puck had known that the two girls had become close since Quinn had moved in with Mercedes and he honestly doesn't give two shits who's in the delivery room, but he's starting to freak out and he thinks everything will feel a little bit better and more under control once Quinn's in a hospital gown and in a bed hooked up to all the right monitors after a nurse and doctor check her out, so he wants to get this process going. (In the back of his mind, he wonders when he became such a sucker for rules, but he doesn't really have time for the self-growth, introspective shit right now).

As the labor progresses from Quinn suffering through contractions as they wait for her be fully dilated (he knows his shit) to her actually having to push, he is again so fucking grateful that her bitchy mom is here with him and Mercedes and Quinn because he doesn't know what the fuck he's supposed to be doing. Quinn immediately made it clear that he's only in the room because she thinks he has the right to see his daughter come into the world, not because she wants him there, so he's banished to somewhere near her feet, which, the view from there…_ew._ But yeah, he's a physical guy and he sucks at words so he's pretty much shit at calming people down when he can't touch them, you know, rub their back or smooth his hand over their hair (shut up, he's got a kid sister) and Mercedes isn't proving to be much better. Basically, Judy Fabray is a godsend in this situation. She has experience in this particular arena that neither he nor Mercedes has, having given birth to two daughters in her lifetime, and so she's keeping Quinn relatively sane. She does keep chanting "You suck! You suck! You suck!" at him, but he knows that she's in a lot of pain, so she just ignores that and just watches his baby's head crown with a seemingly impossible combination of absolute disgust and total awe pulsing through his veins. He knows he looks like a total pussy but this is seriously the most amazing thing he's ever seen (while simultaneously making his stomach churn and making him lightheaded to the point at which he thinks he might pass out).

The whole giving birth process is actually totally disgusting, and he just knows next time he's about to go down on a girl (he wonders why in his head it's not same faceless chick, but rather Rachel) or something, his mind's gonna flash back to his moment, and he wonders if he'll be able to. _That's_ how gross this is. But then, he hears the nurse say that the baby's head is crowning and only a few pushes later, there's his baby girl. She's covered in this disgusting goopy shit and is purply-red and is screaming so loud that his ears hurt (he'll never call Rachel loud again because she's got nothing on his baby girl) and her mouth looks like it's bigger than her entire head, but she is _so beautiful_ and in that moment he knows what love is. This love he feels for Beth is so all-encompassing that he knows, without a trace of doubt in his mind, that he loves Quinn in that moment too, because this tiny, little, beautiful girl is half-her and half-him and Quinn carried her and kept her safe for nine months and brought her into this world. And someone who helped create this miracle of a newborn, well, he doesn't know how not to love that person.

After the clean her up and swaddle her in a blanket, the nurse brings the baby to Quinn, and he can see immediately that Quinn falls in love with the little girl as much as he already has the second the nurse places Beth in her arms. And it's literally impossible for him to get the soft, sappy expression off his face, and he knows he'll forever be connected to Quinn and to an extent, Mercedes, because she just witnessed him at his most vulnerable. But this moment is so much bigger, so much more important than the overall effect of his reputation, especially in front of the woman who gave him this miracle, and in front of a girl who's part of a club that doubles as a family. But yeah, he pretty much wants to be in this room with this tiny baby girl forever if it means he doesn't have to give her up, which he knows Quinn is going to want to do. For now, he settles for smiling warmly at Quinn when she passes his daughter to him and not even caring that he cries openly when their not-even hour old daughter opens her eyes and looks right at him.

* * *

About fifteen minutes after Vocal Adrenaline finishes their flawless performance of "Bohemian Rhapsody," Rachel sets off in search of Shelby. She's not really sure why, but she knows she wants to give her one final chance before she closes her out of her life completely. She's not entirely sure why she expected this interaction to go any more smoothly than any of her previous exchanges with her birth mother, but she does consider her undying optimism and faith in other people one of her better traits.

The fact that her mother does not greet her warmly or even as enthusiastically as Rachel has seen the same woman greet some members of her show choir should be the first tip off about how the conversation is likely to proceed, but instead she attributes it to post-performance distraction and forges bravely ahead.

However, as far as she's concerned, the conversation is an absolute train wreck from that point forward. She says exactly what she had planned to say, but she can tell immediately that Shelby isn't receptive to her words. (She's a lot better at reading people than she's given credit for because she often ignores social cues in the name of honestly, particularly in critiquing others). She isn't delusional, so she didn't actually think she would be able to convince Shelby to relinquish her position as the Sue Sylvester of Glee Club coaches (minus the penchant for unprovoked and completely inappropriate cruelty) to co-direct a fledgling club at a rival school, but she did think she might be able to make some in-roads into the life of her mother, so Shelby's rejection stings immensely.

Her flimsy excuses about missing Rachel's formative years fall on deaf ears. Not only does she firmly believe that a girl can _always, always_ use a mother, she also carefully chose the words of the speech she just gave Shelby. Consequently, she just as firmly believes that she _does_ have a lot to learn from her birth mother, and not just about singing. Shelby could be an invaluable resource to her about life, about being a teenage girl with big dreams living in a small town, about maturing into an adult woman. Her chest literally constricts, and she can feel her heart breaking when Shelby rejects her and essentially says that Rachel doesn't fit the life plan that she has plotted for herself, and even more so with the realization that not only does she not fit in the plan but that Shelby is too rigid to bend her plan even enough to have a little bit of contact with the girl she brought into the world.

The feeling gets worse when she realizes that there's only one person that she's ever known who can make this feeling lessen and he just recently watched his daughter come into the world, and at that moment, knowing that Noah is preoccupied with the most significant occurrence in his life to date and that Shelby doesn't want her, she's never felt so lonely in her life.

And if there's one single emotion that Rachel Berry is used to, it is, without a doubt, loneliness. She never had a real friend until her friendship with Noah blossomed just recently, she has no cousins her age and no matter how loving and supportive and generally wonderful her fathers are, a girl needs friends and people her own age or she's going to be lonely. But this moment tops them all. Suddenly, she needs to get out of that room as fast as she can without tipping off Shelby to just how hurt she is. She's never let anyone see how much the slushies hurt her and Shelby Corcoran will certainly never know that she crushed Rachel Berry's heart. So she stands tall and answers truthfully when Shelby asks where the rest of New Directions is. She think she's going to throw up telling Shelby about Beth's entrance into the world, but even in her state, she can appreciate her own flair for the dramatic when she tells Shelby that Quinn gave birth to a "beautiful baby girl" before turning her back and walking out of the room.

* * *

After Puck announces Beth's birth time and statistics to his gathered Glee Club teammates and coach, they head back hoping to catch the announcement of the results, and he can't be bothered to care a little bit. He's happy that they all at least know him well enough to not even bother asking him if he wants to come because there's nothing he wants less than to leave this little baby girl before he and Quinn are handing her over to her still unchosen adoptive parents. This little girl has literally changed his life in the few hours that she's been in the world, and he knows the moment that he hands her over to her parents is going to replace the moment he realized his dad was never coming back as the worst moment in his life. So yeah, he doesn't want to miss a moment with this perfect little human being.

When Shelby shows up, he's pissed for a couple reasons. First, because he doesn't want anyone except Quinn interrupt his precious and limited hours with his daughter (and that's only because Beth is Quinn's daughter, too) and second because he's sick of Shelby swooping in and fucking with people's lives. Despite how he knows Quinn feels about Rachel, he's proud to see her mama bear streak come out. After how badly he knows that Shelby messed up Rachel, he doesn't want her breathing the same air as his daughter. Unfortunately, that's not exactly how things develop.

Shelby is extremely kind to him and Quinn and about Beth, and he has to admit his demeanor toward her softens a bit when she compliments his choice of the name Beth and doesn't point out that they don't really have a right to pick a name since she's being put up for adoption. She asks them about Beth's time of birth and all her statistics and compliments Quinn on being up and on her feet and how good she already looks and before he knows the three of them have been standing outside the nursery talking and looking at Beth for two hours. He has no doubt that they would have stayed for much, much longer because conversation was just _flowing_, but Quinn says that she's exhausted and obviously he gets it. _She pushed a baby out of her area _(all of the words he usually employs to describe that particular part of the female anatomy seem wholly inappropriate when talking about his daughter's birth). So he and Quinn head back to her hospital room and Shelby departs after they all exchange numbers, even though he has no idea why. Quinn, on the other hand, seems to have some sort of creepy woman/mother telepathic connection with Shelby because the next words out of her mouth are "I want Shelby to adopt her, and I know she wants to." He's interrupted before he can respond.

He knows Rachel would have some fancy fatalistic word for what happens next. Just as Quinn tells him that she wants to let Shelby adopt Beth, his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out to see a text from Berry: _we lost. I'll never forget our short time as friends. You'll always have a spot in my heart, noah._ He flies off the handle, storming out and texting Rachel without a word to Quinn. _Don't say that shit. Callin u._

As Rachel's phone rings once, twice, a third time, he realizes that his stomach is churning unpleasantly. He assumes that it's attributable to finding a woman that Quinn has deemed suitable for adoption making the inevitably much more real as well as Rachel's assumption that their friendship will end with Glee Club.

"Hello?"

"Berry, it's me."

"Yes, Noah? I'm afraid we're still at regionals, so it's rather loud. I'm not sure that I'll be able to hear you well enough for us to have a productive conversation."

"Fuck that shit." People sitting in the lobby of the maternity wing are giving him appalled looks, but he has several issues on his mind that are a bit more important to him than the delicate sensibilities of the people waiting around for their loved ones to have babies. He thinks he might be losing his best friend and he knows in just a matter of days his daughter will be gone forever. "Find a supply closet or a girls' bathroom or someone's car. I don't give a shit where you go but I gotta talk to you."

"Whatever could possibly be so important that you need to talk to me at this very moment in time?"

"I don't want you getting the wrong fuckin' idea. Now find somewhere quiet so I can fuckin' talk to you because we're only havin' this conversation once and I don't want there to be any misunderstandings. Clear?"

"Yes, Noah, it's clear." He can hear the amusement in her voice, and despite the fact that she's clearly laughing at him, he finds that the light lilt in her voice significantly lifts his spirits. "I've found an empty single stall women's room. Now would you care to explain what's got you so worked up?"

"Yep. That fuckin' text you just sent me. I—" he can't finish his thought, though, because Rachel interrupts him once again.

"I know, Noah, I know. I'm exceptionally upset by our loss at regionals, as well. I thought we would at least surpass Aural Intensity, but alas, we were dead last. I can only hope that Principal Figgins can find it in his heart to give us another year, perhaps—"

"_Jesus fuckin' Christ_, let me talk, Berry. I don't give a shit about where we placed at regionals. I'm talkin' about you fuckin' terminating our friendship or whatever shit you would call it."

"I'm sorry, Noah, I'm afraid I don't understand. I was under the impression after the gathering at Mr. Schuester's house that you were not willing to continue any Glee Club friendships with non-athletes or Cheerios, in the even that we lost at regionals."

"Dude, Berry, at Schue's I was talking about Mercedes and fuckin' Kurt. Not you. You're my Jewish-American Princess, not to mention, my best friend. Christ, Berry."

"I'm sorry for my assumption, Noah. I suppose I should have spoken with you first. I must have misunderstood you at the Glee gathering. I'm just not quite sure why you are so quick to drop Mercedes and Kurt but willing to keep me and Tina and Artie as friends."

"You're gonna have to work a lot harder than that to get rid of me, Berry. Artie's my boy and Tina's a cool enough girl—it's not like I'm gonna be best friends with or anything, and Mercedes and Kurt are fine too, but what the hell would I ever talk to them about?"

"If we don't have Glee what do you have to talk to me about, Noah?"

He gives her his word answer because it's simple but undeniably true. "Everything."

It renders her speechless and ends the conversation there.

When he hangs up with Rachel, he drags his feet slowly up the stairs, torn between his desire to spend every possible moment with Beth and his total lack of desire to discuss adoption options with Quinn, particularly the option of Shelby Corcoran. He knows he has to talk about all this shit with her eventually anyway so his desire to be with Beth wins out, and he's stoked when he gets back to the room and sees his little girl in Quinn's arms.

"Gimme," he holds his arms out for Quinn to deposit Beth, and she doesn't protest, just smiles indulgently and hands over the baby. She's actually pretty much been a champ since the moment Beth was born, and she's certainly let him hold and care for Beth as much as he wants, and he knows he's been hogging her a little bit but he _needs_ this little girl in his life as much as possible for as long as possible. And all the adoption talk and the losing regionals talk is a little bit easier to stomach when his daughter is cuddled into his chest.

"We lost," he tells Quinn, but his eyes are focused on Beth's perfect face.

"I know," she holds up her phone, "Brit texted me."

"Glee's gonna be over."

"I know. High school can just go back to normal though."

_Fuck that_, he thinks, but he doesn't want to corrupt this perfect, innocent baby so instead he looks up at Quinn. "D'you think you can just go back to normal?"

"I'm going to try as hard as I can. I want to pretend that this never happened. You, Beth, Glee, losing the Cheerios. I just want to start over."

For one of the only times in his life, he admits to himself that he's hurt. He's hurt for himself that Quinn wants to completely forget him and he's hurt for Beth that her biological mother is planning on going on with her life pretending that her daughter doesn't exist. He's seen how that shit fucked Rachel up and he doesn't want it for his own daughter. All he wants is for his daughter to be loved completely and always by everyone in her life and if Quinn can't give that to her (which he realizes now she can't), then he knows that they have to give her up. And for the first time, he's at peace with the idea. (He can still hate it, though. He reserves the right to always hate it).

They've got to get this show on the road, though. He cannot take Beth home for even a night or he knows he won't be able to give her up ever, so he looks up from his daughter and meets Quinn's eyes and they both know that they're thinking the same thing. They've got to figure this out.

She's the one that's strong enough or determined enough to actually broach the subject after several minutes of silence other than Beth's quiet sounds. "Puck, I think that we should let Shelby adopt her. She called while you were outside."

"She's Rachel's mom."

"She's Rachel's biological mother, yes. I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"She gave up Rachel and then came back looking for her then walked out again. I don't want her to hurt Beth."

"Puck," Quinn rolls her eyes. "Her name is not Beth; we're giving her up—we don't get to name her. And Shelby wants a family; she feels like she's too late with Rachel."

"She's not," he mutters under his breath, but he feels loyal to Rachel and he doesn't want to air her problems to Quinn. "At least let me call Rachel and talk to her first."

"It's not her business, Puck. This little girl is mine and yours, and her future is our decision, not ours and Berry's."

"You're right, but it's courteous to at least let her know what's happening so she's not completely blindsided."

"Since when are you courteous?"

Puck gently rests his daughter in the bassinet provided by the hospital and starts to pace across the room. "I just don't want to do this without telling Rachel first. I don't get why it's such a big deal to you."

"It's just not her business, Puck. She makes everything her business anyway. Why should we enable it and ask her permission about who we pick for Beth? It should be about who we think will give Beth the best future."

"Jesus, Quinn, I'm not saying we should ask her permission. I just think that it would be nice of us to give her a heads up."

"It's not her fucking business, Puck."

He runs a hand over his closely shaved and down his face before looking Quinn square in the eye. "Q, you need my signature to let her adopt Beth, and I'm not signing that paper until I've talked to Rachel. I'm sorry, but I'm not changing my mind."

"Oh, come on, Puck, it's just manhands."

He scrubs a hand over his face. "Don't call her that. Her name is Rachel, and she doesn't deserve how cruel we've been to her."

"You started it."

"Well, then, I'm ending it. And I'm starting by talking to her before we give our kid to her mother."

"Puck," she sighs. "Why do you care so much?"

"Why can't you just fucking accept that I'm doing this one thing my way, Quinn? I've cooperated with everything you wanted to do, but I'm not doing this to Rachel without a head's up first."

She rolls her eyes and it sets him off. "Look, I know what it feels like to think your parent doesn't want you, and I know that Rachel feels like her mom doesn't love her or want her, so I'm at least going to make sure she hears right away that her mom has a new family, okay? She's going to feel replaced, and it'll hurt at least a little less if she doesn't hear from her mother."

Five minutes later, he's leaning against the brick wall of the hospital right next to the door closest to the maternity wing. Unlike his previous phone call to Rachel, he doesn't want to make this one with an audience of families waiting for their newest member. It seems too public and wholly inappropriate. It's unseasonably cold, but he isn't wearing a jacket. He's palming his phone, but he doesn't want to dial that number. He doesn't want to be the one to break the news to Rachel, but he knows she deserves to hear it—moreover she deserves to hear it kindly from someone who is on her side.

It takes him another five minutes to select her name from his contacts list and press send, initiating a call that he knows will break both their hearts. "Noah!" she answers brightly. "This is a surprise! Twice in one night? I must say, I thought you would be preoccupied with your daughter, everyone told me that she's gorgeous."

"Most people just say hello," he grumbles in response.

"I'm not most people," she reminds him cheerily. "May I ask why you called?"

"I have to tell you something. I don't want this to happen and I really don't want to the be the one to tell you, but I think you deserve to know, and to find out from someone who's completely on your side."

Her voice is flat and monotone, and all the cheeriness of just a few seconds previously is gone when she replies. "Shelby's going to adopt Beth, isn't she?"

He's flabbergasted. "Wait, what? How did you know? Quinn hasn't even given Shelby an answer yet."

"I saw her today. She gave me this whole long speech about how she missed her opportunity in my life and she wants a family. And I told her that I still have so much to learn from her, but she said I don't need her anymore, but I do, Noah, I need her so badly."

"I know, baby, I know," he lets his voice take on the soothing tone that always calms Eliza because he can't pull Rachel into his arms so he'll have to go with the next best option. "I'm so sorry to be telling you this. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous, Noah. This isn't your fault. I know you were the one who insisted on calling me and I appreciate it, and I know how much you would have preferred to keep Beth. It's an admirable decision you're making and I do believe that Shelby will be a fantastic mother to Beth. Despite her inability to understand me, I do think she's a rather phenomenal person, and I don't doubt that she'll be committed to raising Beth to be a good girl with ambition and goals."

"Thanks, Rachel. You're great, you know that?"

He can hear the smirk in her voice when she responds. "I know that. It's a damn shame that no one else does."

Chuckling, he tells her to hang in, call if she needs anything and that he'll call her the second everything goes through with Beth and he's back in Lima. Then, he hangs his head low and trudges back into the hospital to sign his daughter away to replace his best friend in Shelby Corcoran's life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, "Sweet Caroline" by Neil Diamond or "Something in the Way She Moves" by James Taylor**

**Chapter 8**

"She asked me if I loved her," he says around a mouthful of berry pie. They're sitting in the hidden back corner booth of Mary's, the 24 hour diner a couple blocks from Rachel's house. It's a few days after Beth left the hospital with Shelby and both of them are trying to wrap their heads around the developments. This diner has kind of become their spot, and he couldn't sleep that night so he called her. It's two in the morning, and he settling in with his pie, she with a mug of herbal tea.

She takes a sip of tea and rubs her eyes; he knows she was dead asleep when he called, and he loves her for meeting him regardless (loves her as a friend, that is, to be clear). "Well, do you?" Her voice is raspy and tired, and he finds himself hoping she doesn't hurt it and not because he doesn't want to listen to her bitching about losing her voice but because he just loves the sound of her singing (and talking, now).

"Do I love her?" he repeats. She nods, and he thinks she's making it seem a lot fucking simpler than it is.

(For her part, she pretends her heart isn't pounding erratically in her chest because she doesn't know what it means).

"I don't love her now. But in that moment, when she asked, I told her I did. I think I fucking did then. How could I not, you know? We were standing here in the hall of the hospital, looking at this tiny little person that we made, this tiny little person that I love more than I can even understand. So yeah, in that very fucking second, I loved her."

Rachel nods in agreement even though she has no idea what that might feel like. (She's glad she doesn't have experience in that regard, for the record). "Did you love her the night Beth was conceived?"

He chuckles because she sounds so formal, but nonetheless he thinks carefully about how to answer her question. "I loved the idea of her. I loved this porcelain doll beautiful girl that had this edge, even though she had no real reason to be edgy. And I loved that the president of the celibacy club, and the head cheerio was breaking the stereotype and going for me instead of her starting quarterback boyfriend. And I _loved_ that someone who was dating golden boy Finn Hudson would go for me, even if it was on the side. So I loved what I made Quinn in my head, but, no, I never loved the person she actually is."

He meets her eyes broodingly and holds her gaze. She wonders if he realizes that she's thinking about the way she once idolized Finn. (He doesn't know, but he's hoping). When she feels like she can break the gaze, she does and she reaches across the table to steal a forkful of pie. He smiles warmly at her and leans back.

After several minutes, she's the one to break the silence. "Finn told me he loved me."

"Yeah? What did you say?"

"Nothing." Puck laughs; she glares. That's pretty much the pulse of their relationship. "He told me literally a minute before we went on at Regionals."

"D'you think he meant it?"

She reaches over and steals his fork and another bite of pie. He doesn't say anything because he just asked a totally loaded question, and he figures she deserves a bite of pie before she answers. She chews thoughtfully (also looks damn sexy doing it). He just sort of watches her and thinks he can actually see her figuring out how she's going to answer.

"I think he thinks he loves me, but I don't know if that means he loves _me_. I think he may just have been transferring very real and existent feelings for Quinn to me. He has a history of turning to me when things are bad and then running back to her at the first opportunity."

Puck smirks. "Fuck yeah, he does. Do you love him?"

She doesn't have to think about that question because it's the easiest one he could have asked. It's also one she's thought about a lot recently. "No. I don't think I ever loved him, not the real Finn Hudson. I don't know the real him—I never did. I loved what I made Finn in my head; it's a lot like what you said earlier about Quinn."

Puck nods. "For what it's worth, I think Finn does love you for real, and I know that whatever feelings he has for you are for the real you."

Rachel shakes her head almost immediately. "Finn doesn't know the real me. The only person at that school that's anywhere near actually knowing me is you, and you're not that close."

He looks at her for a long moment. "What does that mean?"

"I'm high-strung, competitive, goal-oriented and blunt. But there are other sides of me too and no one ever sees that."

He doesn't know what makes him do it, but he leans across the table, grabs her hand and holds her gaze for several seconds before he speaks. "Let me get to know you. Everyone deserves a friend who knows the real them."

"Who's yours?"

Puck shrugs. "Never had one. That's where you come in. Come on, I'll take you home. I'm taking you somewhere tomorrow, okay?"

"Where?"

"You'll find out. Let's go." He drops a ten on the table to cover her tea and his slice of pie and steers Rachel to his car with an arm slung tightly around her shoulders. He ignores the excitement teeming through his body at the thought of actually getting to know her.

When he drops her off, it's pushing four in the morning, and her big house is so quiet it's creepy. Puck pulls into the driveway and flicks on his high beams to light up the path and front porch for her. He smiles at her across the cab of the truck. "So I'll pick you up around twelve tomorrow? Tell your dads that you have plans for dinner."

"What are they?"

"For dinner you're coming to mine. If I'm gonna see the real Rachel, you're gonna see Noah, not Puck."

"Deal. What else are we doing?"

"You'll find that out tomorrow. Now take that cute little ass inside and get some rest, okay?"

She nods and when he winks at her his gaze is so gentle and caring that her breath hitches. She didn't think that actually happened to anyone, but she's not surprised that if anyone can elicit that sort of reaction it's him.

The next morning she sleeps until 10:30 and only wakes up then because her daddy comes into her room. He sits down on the edge of her bed and smoothes a hand over her hair. "What time did you get home last night?"

She sits up. "Don't be mad, Daddy, Noah just needs a friend and some guidance through a really difficult time. It was close to four, though."

"Where did you go?"

"Mary's, that 24 hour diner. He wanted to talk."

"Rachel," her daddy starts in a warning tone. "I've heard stories about that boy. The housewives, Quinn Fabray, petty crime, he buys marijuana from Sandy Ryerson, you know."

"Maybe Sandy Ryerson shouldn't be selling marijuana to kids he knows are in high school." Her daddy snorts in agreement, but Rachel plows on more seriously. "He's had a lot of problems, Daddy. He was just a scared kid who wanted to feel wanted and needed a break. And he made a huge mistake with Quinn Fabray, but he has been so brave and strong and selfless in trying to do right by Quinn."

"How so?"

"He wanted to tell Finn from the start. He tried to give Quinn money even when she refused to acknowledge that the baby was his. When the truth came out, he let Quinn move in with him, and he took her to all her appointments and did most of the researching and interviewing of potential couples to adopt Beth. And he was the one who insisted that I know and give my blessing before Shelby adopted Beth."

"Just watch out for yourself with him, okay, Ray?"

"I trust him, Daddy. He's a good person."

"And we trust you, star. We just love you and we always worry about you."

"I know. I love you, too. But I have to get up. I need to work out and shower before Noah picks me up at 12."

She jumps from bed and pulls workout clothes from her drawers. "I won't be home for dinner, Daddy. I'm going to Noah's."

"Okay, star, but maybe we could have him over here sometime?"

"Possibly," Rachel offers ducking into her bathroom and shutting the door, effectively ending the conversation.

The next morning he can't help but think that this was a colossally stupid idea. He doesn't really know Rachel, and he's never done anything like what he's about to do. What if he can't trust her? What if she goes and spews to the whole school about how Noah Puckerman isn't a badass at all and actually a fuckin' vulnerable softie? That shit's not intended for all those losers to know. There's something about Rachel that's drawn him in before, but sometimes he wonders how much he should follow his instincts. They've certainly led him into questionable decisions and corresponding situations before. But then he remembers Rachel forgiving him for the slushies and cleaning him up during their brief week-long romance, and how she had taken care of him during that week. And how ever since, even when he's been cruel to her, she's been at his side ready to help him with anything.

But he doesn't really have any more time for that anyway because he's pulling up to Rachel's house and he's already a couple minutes late so he just jumps out of the car and strides up to the front door, knocking before he can talk himself out of it. It's several moments before the door swings open, and then he's face to face with Rachel's tall, African-American father, Leroy. He's never met Rachel's other dad, but he pretty much immediately established a rapport with this particular Mr. Berry ("Daddy"), so he's glad that it was him that answered the door.

He's welcomed into the entrance with a smile, a clap on the back and a warm "how's it going, Noah?"

He kind of shrugs and nods. "M'alright. Jus' waitin' for baseball season now."

Daddy Berry nods. "What position do you play?"

"I'm a shortstop, but I pitch too. Mostly play short though."

"You got a little bit of Nomar in you, then?"

"A bit, s'pose," he mumbles, feeling uncomfortable. He doesn't want to say that he's more of a Jeter man, and he doesn't really know what to say to Rachel's father anyway, but fortunately she chooses that moment to come down the stairs calling cheerily "Hi Noah! Sorry I kept you waiting, but I wanted to ensure that I'm adequately prepared for all types of situations and weather since you haven't told me where we're going."

He smirks and reaches over to pull her close to his body. "It's a surprise, Berry. We gotta loosen you up. You don't have to be in control all the time."

Daddy Berry chuckles, and Puck can tell it's a sound of agreement. The way Rachel scowls at her father is totally adorable, and he knows he has a ridiculous smile on his face just from watching her being all sweet and cute, but he actually can't help it. It just feels so good to smile and be happy and not think about Beth or what a fuck-up he is for five minutes that he just lets himself savor it, even if he probably shouldn't.

He and Rachel are all set to go—hell, he even has his hand on the knob to open the door for her—when the sound of a set of footsteps gets closer and closer and then a voice calls "star, wait, don't leave yet!"

Rachel groans, and although Puck certainly doesn't express it, he does share the sentiment. He just wants to get out of this house without another second with her fathers. He really doesn't have a problem with her two dads, but _she has two dads_. Like, dads are terrifying anyway, especially when they think you're corrupting their daughter—they know how a teenage boy's mind works, and she's got two of them. He knows Daddy (Leroy) Berry already loves him, and he actually thinks that they could have a pretty good relationship, but he has no idea what the hell he would ever talk to Dad (Hiram) Berry about. He also gets the feeling that Hiram is going to be exceptionally difficult to win over, even if he and Rachel are just friends. Based on the calculating and skeptical look Dad Berry is leveling him with, he thinks his assumption is correct. Fortunately, Rachel is nothing if not strong-willed and adamant in her opinions, so he thinks that even if Dad Berry hates him initially, she'll stick with him and eventually they'll win over Dad Berry together.

And then he has a related, but highly disturbing thought: if he and Rachel are just friends, why does he care what one of her dads thinks so much?

Once they're on the road, he lets her pick the CD and is pleasantly surprised that she chooses K'NAAN's "Troubadour" for their trip. It's a good thirty minute drive, and he likes good music even if he's sure it's going to be in the background behind the sounds of her incessant chattering (which he's grown to tolerate, maybe even like, for the record). But, shockingly, she's pretty quiet the first ten minutes of the drive, and he has no idea what's going on with her. He glances over to the passenger side of his truck a few times and even catches her eye once, offering her a wink, but she doesn't initiate any conversation.

So after ten minutes, even though the silence is perfectly comfortable, he can't stand it any longer. He's used to her chatting away about any and everything, and he's actually a little bit concerned about what might be going on in her head to keep her so quiet for so long, so he reaches his right hand across the car and snakes it under her hair to squeeze the back of her neck gently. She starts a bit and looks over at him with questions in her eyes. He offers her a smile and says "what's going through that head of yours? You've been silent since you got in the car."  
"I'm fine, Noah, I just don't have a lot to say, I suppose."  
He rolls his eyes when she's looking ahead at the road because he sure as hell doesn't want her to see that. He doesn't need a lecture on his manners today (or any day). Silence descends again because if she doesn't want to talk he's not going to make her. It's not like he can't survive without the sound of her voice-he's just grown accustomed to it. So they end up driving to their destination in total silence, and he's surprised that she can hold in the questions about where they're going and what they're doing, but he also has an inkling that she might be trying to stay quiet to prove something. But whatever her intention is he pushes it to the back of his mind as they approach the destination. He knows that this is going to shock Rachel, but that's really what he was going for anyway, wasn't it? Not necessarily the shock factor, but he knows that no one really knows what he does with his time when he's not at football or glee or school or babysitting his sister or fucking around with Mike or Matt or Finn or a few of the other guys. (Not that there's a lot of spare time once that's all been done-he's a teeange boy so he has to eat and sleep a higher than average amount, too).  
But yeah, there's some other stuff he does too that no one really knows about. Obviously his mom and his sister know because their family's pretty open so his sister usually knows where he is and what he's doing and how (or if) she'll be able to reach him. And his mom likes to keep pretty close tabs on him in general especially after the whole Quinn-Beth-knocking up his best friend's girlfriend incident. But other than his mom and sister, he doesn't really open up this part of his life (or much beyond what he gives on the surface) to others.

He shifts the truck into park in the lot of Springview Manor, which, Rachel knows, is one of the better known, more popular retirement facilities in the Lima area. What she doesn't know, however, is why they're there. She turns to Noah and opens her mouth, but he's looking back at her with one eyebrow cocked, almost as if he's issuing a challenge to her to keep quiet. She's not one to back down from a (maybe) challenge, so she shuts her mouth and simply smiles at him before she twists her body back around and clambers out of the truck, waiting for him to fish his guitar out of the bed before they make their way into the building together.

As soon as they walk in, it becomes apparent that everyone at the nursing home knows him. The middle-aged woman sitting behind the main reception desk sends them a warm smile, and Rachel can tell immediately it's a welcoming smile, not a leer like she imagines the middle-aged women that he's had sex with would give him. It's clear that he's developed a relationship with at least this woman and probably others in the place.

Noah greets the woman behind the desk with an air of familiarity, barely slowing his stride. It's evident that he knows exactly where he's going, and he's retracing steps he's taken thousands of times before. She's actually pretty impressed as he navigates the hallways, as they've only been walking for about 30 seconds and she's completely turned around. Eventually they push through a set of old French doors and step into a large, airy and open sun room. It's a beautiful space, with a gleaming grand piano in one corner and a good number of overstuffed armchairs, couches and wicker rockers scattered through the room. Every single chair in the room is occupied by an elderly man or woman and there are some others set up throughout the room sitting in their wheelchairs. Total, there are about 50 people in the room and Rachel knows that's about a third of the population of the facility. None of this, however, helps her understand why she and Noah are there.

Just then, he turns to her and smirks, seeing the questions in her eyes. But before he can even open his mouth, he sees his nana enter the room, making her way toward him, spry for her 75 years. He dodges around Rachel and meets his grandmother halfway, bending to press a kiss to her cheek. She greets him with wide smile and hands tugging at the collar of his button-up, adjusting it until it's just right. It's not until she's satisfied with the state of his collar that she looks up and sees Rachel standing uncertainly just a few feet away. He extends his free hand and beckons her over, so she shuffles toward them wearing an uncharacteristic uncertainty on her face. When she's within arm's reach, he places his hand gently but firmly on the small of her back and nudges her toward his grandmother a little bit more. "Nana, this is Rachel Berry, a friend of mine from school. Rach, this is my grandma, Connie Goldstein."

He watches as Rachel gains confidence, extending her right hand for a shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Goldstein. Noah always speaks quite highly of you."

"Oh, dear, please call me Connie-or even better, Nana. And I know Noah: he's much more likely to call me a batshit crazy old woman than to speak highly of me."

Noah has the decency to blush, as he slides the hand resting on the small of Rachel's back around her waist to pull her snug against his side. "Not to Rach, Nana. She'd cut off my junk if I said anything bad about you or Ma."

Now, Rachel's the one blushing and elbowing him none-too-gently in the side. But before she can unleash the scolding that he's sure is coming, his nana saves his ass by letting out a deep, full-belly laugh at his words. "I like her, No', I like her a lot."

He smiles and squeezes Rachel's waist affectionately before he lets her go completely, shrugging a little bit and grunting a sound of agreement.

After meeting Noah's grandmother, she has a bit more of a sense of why she's here, but she's still entirely unsure why Noah has his guitar or why his hand is wrapped tightly around hers, guiding her rather forcefully to the front of the room. Soon enough she's standing there, and for the first time in a long time, her heart is racing from nerves. Something about the fifty sets of world-wearied and well-experienced eyes focusing directly on her and Noah puts her a bit on edge. These people have seen and lived through a lot, and somehow that makes their opinions actually matter, unlike those of the sheltered Neanderthals at McKinley.

She glances to her right at Noah and is surprised to see that he looks totally at ease, an easy confidence radiating off him that she usually only sees when he's on a sports field or strutting down the halls winged by Matt or Mike or some of those soccer guys she doesn't know. He's not slouched, he doesn't have his hands in his pockets and he's not unsure of himself like he is every time he stands at the front of the choir room.

"Hey, everyone, if any of you haven't been here before, I'm Puck, Connie Goldstein over there," he gestures in his grandmother's direction with his free hand, "I'm her grandson. Before we get started, I want to introduce everyone to my friend. This is Rachel Berry, she's in the Glee Club at school with me. She has the best voice you'll ever hear in person, and in about, five years it's going to cost a fortune to hear her sing, so you better soak it in now."

Rachel can feel her face burning, but she's also staring over at Puck with her mouth hanging open. She's never heard him speak like that about anything other than Beth, and the sincerity in his voice floors her. But she can't pass up the opportunity to tease him. "Who ever said I was going to sing today, Noah?" she asked innocently, sending the gathered crowd a sly smile and casting him a sidelong glance.

He can't help but chuckle, but he even through his laugh, he retorts, "Berry, everyone knows you can't pass up an opportunity to sing—especially for a crowd."

For some reason that makes her blush recede, but it kind of makes sense because even though she's never been more nervous than she is in this moment, there's nothing that comes as naturally to her as performing does. So she flashes her best performer's smile across the room. "Noah's right; I can never reject an invitation to perform."

Her comment draws a chuckle from the fifty or so adults watching them, and for the next hour, Noah plays the guitar and she sings, or Noah plays the guitar and they both sing or Noah plays the guitar and she plays the piano and they both sing, taking requests from the audience—anything from some of the Broadway classics and her favorites to Billy Joel and Michael Buble and John Legend. Before she knows it, Noah's saying that there's time for a few more songs and he has two that he'd like to sing. He starts in nearly immediately, strumming the opening chords of "Sweet Caroline" and her hand flies to her mouth, remembering the last time he sang this song in front of her. This time, though, he sings the whole thing, and he spends the whole second verse staring intently into her eyes. As he sings the second part of the verse, his eyes are bright green and have a gratitude that she's never seen in them before:

_And when I hurt_

_Hurting runs off my shoulder_

_How can I hurt when holding you?_

When he finishes, he holds the last note perfectly and strums the final few notes and then the people watching are applauding, but Rachel feels like she and Noah are in a vacuum. She starts to move toward him even though she's not entirely sure why or what she's going to do, but she's saved from that dilemma when he stops her in her tracks by starting to play another song. She doesn't immediately recognize it, but she listens carefully to the lyrics:

_There's something in the way she moves_

_Or looks my way, or calls my name_

_That seems to leave this troubled world behind_

_And if I'm feeling down and blue_

_Or troubled by some foolish game_

_She always seems to make me change my mind_

_And I feel fine anytime she's around me now._

Just a few bars in she realizes it's an old James Taylor piece, and she knows she's never heard anything as beautiful as Noah singing that gorgeous, classic, touching song. She's not entirely sure what he's doing, especially in front of all these people, but she's certain that he's singing both these songs with significant meaning toward her, the first an acknowledgement of their past, the second perhaps a plea or a hope for their future?

She pulled out of her thoughts, ironically, by the dead silence that falls upon the room when Noah finishes the song. The audience seems to know that they've witnessed a monumental moment in the relationship between the two people in front of them and appear to be waiting to see how Rachel reacts before they do. After no more than half a second of silence, she's flying across the room and into his arms and applause and cheers and whistles rain down around them although she doesn't notice any of it. Noah had been perched on stool with his guitar balanced on his knee, but now she's standing between his legs with her arms thrown his neck and he's pulling her flush against his body with his arm wrapped tightly around her waist, while the other clutches his guitar.

Eventually she pulls back and wraps her arms around her torso, having completely forgotten about their audience. "Noah, that was amazing. You have such talent—I wish you would showcase it more at school."

He rubs the back of his neck with the palm of his free hand and meets her eyes, shrugging sheepishly, as if just the mention of Glee Club makes him lose all the easy confidence that she saw in him throughout the hour they just spent singing. She vows to rectify it, to do whatever she can to make sure that his confidence doesn't waver so much based on setting and surroundings, but their moment now is interrupted by the approach of an elderly woman that Rachel doesn't know.

"Noah, oh, Noah, that was so beautiful. You better not mess this up—this girl is so talented and pretty."

She sees his gracious smile and loves that she gets to see this Noah, standing just to the side as she watches Noah converse with several people who she assumes are regular attendees of these jam sessions.

"He's a beautiful boy," a voice behind her says, and Rachel turns to see Noah's nana standing just behind her right shoulder.

"I know," Rachel murmurs her agreement, and Connie lets the exchange float around them for a moment before she speaks again.

"Not just on the outside, Rachel. He has a beautiful, generous, kind heart; it's just been trodden and trampled on so much that he's afraid to put it out there again. Behind the bully that I'm sure you've seen, there's still a hurt little boy trying to figure out how he can become a good man without getting his heart torn out of his chest again."

Rachel meets Connie's eyes full on. "I know. I see that in him frequently."

Connie gazes back at Rachel levelly. "I can tell you two have something special. Please don't be the person who breaks his heart again. I don't know if he can take it."

With those cryptic and frightening words, Connie turns from Rachel and walks over to kiss Noah's cheek before she leaves the room, abandoning Rachel in her wake as she gapes at the older woman's retreating back. She's not entirely sure what Noah's nana is implying, but she's quite certain that despite everything that's happened, she and Noah are strictly in the friend zone, and surely as a friend, she does not have the ability to break anyone's heart—particularly not Noah Puckerman's.

By the time they get out of the nursing home it's 2:30 in the afternoon, and Noah drives them back into Lima and straight to the supermarket on the way to his house. He lays a hand on her knee and squeezes gently, asking her if she minds that they made a quick pit stop. When she shakes her head no, he winks at her and hops out of the truck. As she jumps out of the passenger side and scurries around to catch up with him, he's flipping his aviators over his eyes, whistling the tune of the James Taylor song he had just been playing.

She has a million questions about the nursing home and about his grandmother, but she doesn't want to annoy him, so she tries to bite her tongue and hold back from unleashing. She wants to know everything though because she's just so awestruck and impressed by and enamored with _this _Noah Puckerman.

Instead of asking questions, she bounces her weight from foot to foot as she stands next to him and watches him examine a display of strawberries and wonders why she's not annoying the hell out of him yet.

For his part, he's keeping an eye on her out of the corner of his eye. He knows she wants to ask him a bunch of questions and he thinks it's kind of cute the way that all that pent up energy translate into her becoming even more of a little bundle of energy than usual. And it's hilarious the way it looks like keeping all those words in is making her come close to spontaneously combusting. Finally, when they're in the dairy section and he's picking out Eliza's favorite ice cream, he glances at her with a smirk on his face. "Shoot, Berry, I know keeping in all those questions you have is killing you."

The blush on her face is worth what he's sure is going to be quite the interrogation. And sure enough she fires quite a few questions at him, but none too surprising or tough to answer, and he responds to each as they wind their way through the streets of Lima in his truck, pulling up to his house in just about 10 minutes.

He leads her into the kitchen and starts to put away the groceries before he blasts some music and starts singing along. Before long she's joined him, singing at the top of lungs, worrying more about having fun than sounding perfect (for the record, he still thinks she sounds beautiful). She's having so much fun that she doesn't even notice that he's been putting together a salad and making a pasta dish while she's been working on cookies until his mom and sister come into the kitchen, his mother turning down the music as she passes the stereo on her way to kiss Noah hello.

(He's been stealing cookie dough over her shoulder all afternoon, spinning her around the kitchen, singing in her ear and generally being perfect, so she has been a bit too distracted to notice what he's been doing between all that).

She greets Noah's mother before she slides the cookies in the oven and wordlessly hands the bowl to Noah so he can lick the dough from it. She's a little bit surprised when he sets it aside and kindly asks his mother how her day was.

Before she really knows what's happening, Rachel is being ushered into a seat at the kitchen table across from Noah and healthy portion of pasta and salad is heaped onto her plate while Eliza chatters away about her day at her friend's house and Mrs. Puckerman and Noah look at her, listening patiently.

When she gets a word in edgewise, Mrs. Puckerman turns to Rachel and smiles kindly. Rachel is again struck by the similarities between her Noah. They have the same eyes and the same smile (when Noah smiles genuinely), but Mrs. Puckerman's are a little more tired, a bit more world-weary. "Rachel, I must tell you, when Noah came home last night and told me you'd be joining us for dinner, I was so thrilled. I keep telling him that you're such a good influence on his life."

She can feel herself blushing as she meets Noah's eyes over the table. He's kind of blushing too but also shrugging, as if in agreement with his mother. "I don't know about any of that. I just enjoy spending time with Noah."

His mom just emits a sound, and she's not really sure what it's supposed to mean so she ignores it as Mrs. Puckerman goes on to ask what they did during the day, and conversation just flows from there.

After dinner, Mrs. Puckerman insists that since Rachel and Noah made dinner, she'll take care of the dishes and shoos up them out of the kitchen. Noah leads them both up to his room, and Rachel wonders aloud why his mother doesn't care if they wander off alone.  
He laughs because she has a point. There's no reason his mother should trust him alone with a girl even a little bit, but it's Rachel, so she does, and that's what he tells her. "Berry, believe me, it's only you. Fuckin' Santana comes over and we're not allowed upstairs and she's got the brat bribed to patrol us like a fuckin' prison warden. She probably wouldn't even let Quinn in the house anymore."  
She's more than a little bit hurt, even though she's reasonably certain Puck wasn't trying to insult her. It's just that she has more than her fair share of insecurities when it comes to comparing herself with Quinn and Santana, and she knows that those two girls are the only ones that this boy has ever truly cared about, and it's hard to measure up to them. Her hurt must show on her face because he rolls his eyes and says "Christ, Berry, it's not 'cause you're not hot because Jew-God knows that ain't true. It's 'cause Mama P probably fuckin' _wants_ me to knock you up and tie you down and have my genes associated with your perfect Jew babies."  
She doesn't really know how to respond, so she kind of stammers for a moment, blushing furiously before she can compose herself. "As flattering as that is, Noah, I'm fairly certain that's not true."  
He shrugs. "Whatever, Berry. You should just know that it ain't 'cause you're not fuckable, because you're sure as hell hotter than either of those two."  
"Well, thank you, Noah. Do you think that you could take me home? It's getting rather late and I haven't seen my fathers all day."  
"Sure thing, B, let me just tell Ma. Meet me out at the truck?"  
When he's driving her home, and the(ir) diner pops up on the right, he can't help but glance over at her. Since she's staring wistfully at it, he flicks his blinker on and bangs a right into the lot. "Wanna stop for a slice of pie before I take you home?"  
She nods, and he can see the little smile playing on her lips, so he knows that he's made her seriously happy. That little smile is the one she gets when she's really, really happy and someone has done something for that proves they pay attention and/or care about her, and it makes this ridiculous sense of accomplishment and pride sweep over him in a kind of overwhelming wave. By now the staff at this diner-particularly the late night servers-are starting to recognize them, and they're shown immediately to their booth in the back corner. They settle in, and the waiter, a guy named Jack who's about three years older and has served them a couple times, immediately brings two glasses of water and a mug of herbal tea for Rachel. Puck nods once at him, curtly, but Rachel smiles that brilliant smile of hers and thanks him enthusiastically, and he knows it's because the waiter remembers what she orders-there aren't enough people in her life who aren't related to her that recall any little details about her. He vows to make an effort to remember more.  
"So Berry," he says after he orders two slices of strawberry pie, "what d'ya think?"  
"About what?" she plays dumb, even though he's certain that she has about a billion thoughts and observations and questions about everything that they did today.  
He scoffs at her and smirks a little. "C'mon, I know you, and I'm sure you've got about a million things to say about today, so hit me with it."  
He can see her eyes light up and start to sparkle a little bit in that way he knows they do when she's totally happy, and she starts to talk about his pitch and performance and leading man potential, not even stopping when the waiter comes to bring their pie and lingers a little bit. Puck looks away from Rachel and gives the douche his most blatant fuck-off glare because even though Rachel is adorably oblivious, he can see the guy staring right at her and he knows how beautiful she is when she's this happy and excited and inspired. When the guy gets the message and turns away, he looks back at her and she's giving him this soft smile and saying "And, _Noah, _that James Taylor song. You were _beautiful_. You need to let more people see this performer side of you because you could make it."

He just looks back at her and takes a big bite of pie because he doesn't know how to respond to someone having this kind of complete faith in him. This has become as comfortable as second nature to them, sitting in the back booth of this diner. He orders pie, she orders tea, and she steals his food (he'd steal her tea just to get her back, but it's too fucking gross to even be worth it). He thinks that, most of the time, these late nights in this diner are the only thing keeping him going these days.

By extension, that means that Rachel Berry is the only thing keeping him going these days. Now, _that's _a thought.

(And it's a thought that he's not nearly as freaked out by as he thinks she should be).


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey everyone! Thanks so much for reading-if you do have a second to just review and let me know what you think, it would be greatly appreciated!**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed thus far, especially .Xo who has taken the time to review each chapter and has given me some great ideas and feedback. I really appreciate it.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Glee does not belong to me; I'm just borrowing the characters for my own personal enjoyment and no other gain. **

**Chapter 9**

After that night he doesn't talk to Rachel for a couple days, and when he does, it's because he received a dramatic text: _rushing out of town to ann arbor. will call in next few days_. He immediately types out a concerned response (he even spells out all the words and does his best to use proper grammar because he knows how much Rachel appreciates that), but he doesn't get an answer.

He does his best to distract himself for the rest of the day. First, he plays Call of Duty for a few hours, but after a while it stops working and his thoughts just go back to Rachel, which seriously pisses him off because he's gone days straight where all he's done is play Call of Duty and eat and drink and sleep. But now he can't play for a couple hours without getting bored and distracted and what the fuck is up with that?

Finally, he calls Finn, Mike and Matt and John Carter and Alex Green, a couple of his buddies from the soccer team and has them all over. They fuck around in his room playing some video games and jamming a little bit (at least he and Finn do—Mike and Matt pop and lock some and John and Alex keep playing MarioKart) and then order a couple of fuckin' huge pizzas from the place in town that's notorious for its enormous portions. That burns a few hours, but even once they leave his house around 1 in the morning, he stays up and cleans up the pizza boxes and makes sure everything in his room is in order (which he never does) before he lies down on his bed and tries to sleep.

He's really pretty worried about what might be going on with Rachel. He can't imagine why she and her Daddy would be rushing out of town to Ann Arbor unless something had happened to her Dad who he knows is a professor at the University of Michigan, and he knows how much Rachel loves both her parents so he can't imagine how upset she'd be if something serious were to happen to one of them.

She hasn't responded to any of his several _where are you? Are you okay? Tell me what's happening, Rachel"_ texts, so he's really in the dark, but he can't imagine it's good if she's not responding because he knows that means she's either too busy or too distracted. Rachel is usually extremely prompt about replying to texts, and he knows that she always does everything in her power to make sure that other people don't worry about her. At this point, he sure as hell is worried. He's got half a mind to just jump in his truck and start driving to Ann Arbor, but his mom always works one shift a weekend, and it's tomorrow, so he knows that Eliza is his responsibility for the day, which he's usually fine with but right now he just wants to know that Rachel is okay.

He selects her name from his contacts list yet again and presses send, hoping for that by some stroke of luck she would be awake despite the late hour, but it's to no avail as her phone rings back in his ear five times before it goes to the voicemail recording with which he is quickly becoming extremely familiar. In attempt to try to get himself to stop thinking about her when he's done everything in his power to contact her to make sure everything is okay, he sets his phone to silent and then puts it in his bedside drawer before flicking off the light and rolling over to try to get some sleep.

That works for approximately three minutes until he realizes that if she does call him and need him his phone won't ring aloud and he'll have no idea she's calling and he definitely doesn't want that. He'd rather suffer, waiting every second for her to text or call, than put his phone on silent in a likely futile attempt to put the issue out of his mind and miss her call if she needs him. So he rolls back over, sets his phone back onto the ring setting and lies on his back, staring the ceiling and wondering when he got so fucking pathetic.

Rachel's daddy calls her from work when he gets the call since he's her Dad's emergency contact. He explains what's going on in a calm and poised voice and asks her to please pack them each a bag and make sure to put her Dad's favorite pajamas in his so that he can be comfortable while he's at the hospital. When her Daddy gets home from work just minutes later, she's waiting on the front steps so that he doesn't even have to get out of the car before they're leaving Lima in a hurry, already on their way to Ann Arbor.

In the car, Daddy explains that her Dad suffered a massive heart attack while he was teaching, and while his condition seems to have stabilized, they're going to have to do some tests and rethink her Dad's diet and possibly even consider bypass surgery. It's a lot to take in, so Rachel does what she always does when she's overwhelmed—puts in her earbuds and shuts out the world. However, once they're a ways outside of Lima, she begins to make sense of everything, and she finally allows herself to relax and realize what's going on. She hasn't really spoken to Noah in a couple of days except in passing in the halls at school, and it's the longest they've gone without having an actual conversation in quite a while—since well before Beth was born. And she actually misses him quite a bit, and not just because she's in a crisis. She's come to enjoy and anticipate their conversations and nights in the diner. She ends up shooting him a quick text message and is about to settle back in with her music and her thoughts while waiting for a response when her Daddy looks at her out of the corner of his eyes and says "Star, can you please put your phone away? I want to talk to you about a few things."

She nods and complies because she doesn't want to burden him with any more stress, especially right now. Her phone slides to the back of the glove compartment, and she doesn't see it light up with an incoming text message as she shuts the small door.

It quickly becomes apparent that her Daddy doesn't have the same consideration about adding extra stress to her life because he starts in with more questioning about her relationship (friendship) with Noah.

"So, what's going on with Noah?"

She rolls her eyes but she also understands that he needs to get his mind off his husband who is lying unconscious and alone in a hospital bed a solid two hours north of where they are so she humors him. "Noah is just becoming a good friend of mine, Daddy, nothing more." She thinks there's a possibility that she's telling a bit of a lie, but she honestly doesn't know if she can handle a relationship with anyone right now, just as she's getting over her intense love affair with Finn, so she goes with it.

"You two do seem to be spending an awful lot of time together, considering you're just friends."

"Daddy, Noah and I just understand each other and are able to help each other with the stuff we're going through. He knows that we're just friends. I don't think I'm ready for anything more right now, especially with the added stress of Dad's precious health. But I'm not lying to you. You know how open I've always been with you and Dad, and you know that you can trust me."

"Sweetheart, it's not that I don't trust you, and you know that your father and I have always been friendly with Deb Puckerman, but it's like we said to you that night you stayed out until four in the morning with him: we've heard stories about the boy, and I think we should talk about it without you changing the subject by making some joke about Sandy Ryerson selling marijuana to students."

"Daddy, you like Noah, I know you do; I can tell by the way you two talk whenever he comes over."

"I didn't say I don't like him, Rachel, but I do think he's made mistakes and you need to consider that."

"I'm not trying to make excuses for Noah's mistakes, and he isn't either, but he is trying to be better. He knows that he should have never slept with Quinn Fabray, and clearly the married women around Lima were inappropriate, but that's not all Noah's fault. Those women tried to seduce him; they _en_couraged instead of _dis_couraging him. And he hasn't had a role model-even when his father was still around, Mr. Puckerman was a terrible example. I'm sure you know about the way he treated Mrs. Puckerman, but he did some truly atrocious things to Noah in terms of emotional abuse, and I wouldn't be surprised if there was physical abuse too. But, now, for the first time in his life, Noah's starting believe in himself, to believe that he can get out of Lima and to believe that it's alright and good to be kind and decent and respectful and that acting that way won't leave him vulnerable or weak."

"That's all well and good, Rachel." Her Daddy sighs and runs a hand over his face in an action that strongly reminds her of a stressed Noah, and she can her hear Daddy's frustration just in the way he says her name. "But this boy—and other boys—have hurt you so many times in the past, and I don't want to see you hurt again."

"There's a big difference between the ways Noah has hurt me in the past and the ways Jesse and Finn have hurt me. Since we became friends, Noah has been nothing but kind and generous and caring, whereas the closer I got with Jesse and Finn the meaner and more hurtful they became."

"Okay, Star, I just don't want to see you get hurt, and you've been hurt a lot recently by the boys in your life."

"I know, Daddy, believe me, but I know Noah won't do anything to hurt me, especially not on purpose. I promise, you'll come around to my side. I'm obviously not going to mention this conversation to him, but he'll prove himself to you and Dad. I know he'll let you see the scared boy he's let me see and then you'll understand why he acted the way he did in the past."

"Okay, just be careful with your heart, and I guess if you're so certain, your father and I will just have to wait and see."

She doesn't like the skeptical tone in her Daddy's voice, but she knows they're both stressed and tired and extremely anxious to get to Ann Arbor, so she doesn't want to pick a fight, especially one that she knows could escalate into a full-scale, screaming bloodbath. Instead, she leans her head against the car window and watches the familiar scenery fly by, completely forgetting about her phone, which is lighting up with concerned text messages and phone calls from a restless boy back in Lima.

So she has no idea just how soon that boy is going to prove his good intentions and good heart to her fathers.

Back in Lima, Puck is just getting more and more worried about Rachel's whereabouts and safety. Over the course of twenty-four hours he sends her more texts than he thinks he's ever sent anyone else (he's exaggerating—maybe), but those texts _and _the at least ten phone calls he made have all gone unanswered. Eventually he logs onto Facebook to see if she's updated her status or something from her iPhone (although he'll be seriously pissed if she's gone onto Facebook on her phone and hasn't bothered to answer one of his approximately 800 million texts), but the last two posts on her page are from him (this sweet song he found on YouTube that he wanted her to arrange for a duet for the two of them) and from some chick he's never met but he knows is Rachel's friend from dance class who goes to Dayton Prep. So yeah, at least that's more evidence that she's not checking her phone because he knows she likes to check her Facebook page often to make sure that anything condescending or derogatory is deleted in a timely manner (her words, obviously). He figures this basically means that she's either too busy, too distracted or too upset to be bothered with her phone, or she's lying dead/seriously injured in a ditch somewhere between Lima and Ann Arbor. That doesn't really make him feel much better, but he's not really sure what to do about getting in touch with her, and it's already seven on Sunday night so he figures that he'll keep his phone on him and on ring throughout the night and then just hope that she'll be at school the next morning.

The next morning he gets to McKinley well before the first bell and stakes out her locker, leaning against the metal bank and fidgeting with his phone while he waits. He knows that she likes to be ridiculously early for everything, especially school, so the chances of her showing up get slimmer and slimmer as the first bell rings followed soon after by the warning bell. Finally, when the last bell rings, signaling the beginning of class he pushes himself reluctantly off the locker next to hers and meanders down the hall toward his class, thumbing out yet another text message. _Rachel, please, please call me or text me or fb me but just let me know you're ok if you get this._ He is honestly way past the point of feeling like a pussy for sending that text because Rachel is amazing and he can be a total fuckin' pansy loser with her and still feel like a badass. In fact, she has this one smile that she gets when he does something that he thinks is totally lame that makes him feel so fuckin' good about himself he doesn't even care how lame he has to be to coax that look from her.

Between each of his classes before lunch, he makes a point to pass her locker to see if he can manage to catch her. He's hoping that they might have left Ann Arbor early that morning so she was just running late to school, but he doesn't see her in the halls at all even though they usually pass by each other on Mondays when she's on her way to World Lit and he's going to European history. At this rate, he's going to have to go to the Algebra 2 class they share in the afternoon just to really make sure that she's not in school, and he really, really doesn't want to have to do that. That would cause a lot of questions and awkwardness and just really unnecessary confusion.

So to spare everyone from that headache, he decides to instead spend his Home Ec. period just before lunch eating his sandwich and apple instead of working on whatever fuckin' knitting or crocheting or whatever the fuck project they were supposed to be doing. This is all so he can spend his lunch leaning on the counter in the administrative office flirting with the 30-something receptionist, Cammie, who's pretty and brunette and has made eyes at him several times when he's been on his way into Figgins' office for some type of punishment or interrogation. But this isn't any sort of half-assed flirting like he sometimes does with Jayne Harrison, the equally hot Home-Ec teacher, just to pass time or with the cute barista at the Starbucks in the center of Lima just to see if he can get a free coffee. No, this is high-stakes, A-game flirtation because getting Berry's locker combination is the last way he can think of to get any sort of recent information about her. It takes a while and some of his best work, but before the end of the period he saunters out of the office with a slip of paper clutched in his right hand detailing the information he needs.

When he spins the combination into her locker and it opens it up, his suspicions are confirmed. Other than a few scraps of paper and the pictures taped to the inside of the door, it's completely empty, a surefire sign that she didn't come to school that day. He's swinging the locker closed when a piece of paper flutters out and lands on the floor, followed by a magnet clanging against the tile at his feet. He picks them both up and opens the locker again, securing the paper against the inside of the door next to the photo booth strip of pictures of Rachel and her dads. He's in the process of closing the locker again when he sees his name out of the corner of his eye.

Written on the scrap of paper he just refastened to the door is a list, scratched out in Rachel's elegant cursive:

_New MySpace Video (Note: Has been 8 days since last post)_

_Brainstorm songs for Sectionals next year (Note: Competition will likely be much tougher)_

_Arrangement of song Noah posted on my wall (Note: Feature Noah as much as possible)_

_New black leggings for dance (same brand & size)_

_Pick up soy milk and go to Starbucks (Note: Owe Daddy a grande skinny latte with a shot of caramel—since it's a treat)_

_Find a time to bring Noah to my spot (Note: After last Saturday, he deserves to know more about me)._

He can immediately tell that the list was composed sometime toward the end of the previous week and intended to be a to-do list for today. In an impulse, he pockets the slip of paper before heading off to his afternoon classes.

After school lets out for the day, he immediately goes home and holes himself in his room, checking logistical necessities to make sure he can execute the plan that popped into his mind during the second half of the school day. After he's sure that he can comfortably afford the gas and a possible overnight stay in some seedy motel if necessary, he checks to make sure Rachel's checklist is still in the pocket of his jeans and then he heads back out. He has just over an hour before he has to pick up Eliza from her afterschool piano lesson, so he's going to be in at least a little bit of a hurry.

An hour later, though, he's pulling into the parking lot of the Lima School of Music and Dance in time to jump out of his truck and hurry inside for the tail end of Eliza's lesson. Whenever he has the time, he makes sure to arrive a bit early to pick up Eliza so that she can show him what she's worked on in that day's lesson. Their mom is often so busy at the hospital that she's unable to pick Eliza up from her many extracurricular activities so the responsibility of taking an involved interest in those things often falls on his shoulders, something he rarely minds. (That doesn't mean he doesn't bitch about it to his friends when he's sure Eliza can't hear—just to save face).

So yeah, if he can, he ducks into her lessons five or ten minutes early to hear her play a bit. It also doesn't hurt that her teacher is definitely super hot, and Eliza's also pretty damn good for a nine year old. Today, though, he goes in, greets his kid sister and her teacher and listens to her play a new song, but his mind quickly wanders. He's been distracted for the past few days by his lack of contact with Rachel. It wouldn't be nearly so bad if he hadn't been trying to get in touch with her. But he had texted and called and even sent her messages on Facebook so much over the course of the past few days that he was beginning to feel like a bit of a stalker and he still hasn't been able to get in touch with her.

It's not until the music tapers off and Eliza looks up at him with big, innocent, hopeful eyes that he stops thinking about Rachel for even thirty seconds. "What'd you think, No'? It's not perfect yet, but I'm getting so much better, don't ya think?"

He smiles at her and reaches out to ruffle her hair. "You're great 'Lize. You're getting much better. Pretty soon you're gonna be as good as Mozart." He sends a wink to her teacher and then makes sure Eliza's got all her belongings before he shepherds her out of the room and the building and to his truck.

That night after dinner he plans a route, calculates how much money he's going to have to spend on gas and tolls and food and maybe lodging (who says he's not responsible?) and arranges all the things he picked up into a festive little bag. Then he selects some of his personal favorite CDs, throws a change of clothes into a duffel bag and lies down in bed, tossing and turning for hours, trying to get at least a little bit of sleep in before the next morning.

He thinks that by the time his alarm goes off the next morning he's gotten about five total hours of sleep over the past two nights. It's probably not even close to his smartest decision to go through with his plan, but he can't just sit around Lima, going to class and fucking around after school and glee, when he has no fucking idea what's going on in Rachel's life.

So after he drops Eliza off at the elementary school, he turns left instead of the usual right he would take to get to McKinley and flips open his phone to dial Santana.

She answers on the third ring with an aggressive "where the fuck are you, Puckerman?"

This is why he loves Santana. She might have told people that they stopped dating (fucking) because of his credit score, but they've actually been super, super close for a long time. They were each other's first everything, from playing together in the sandbox at the same pre-school, to kissing in a dark corner of a school dance in the sixth grade, to her giving him a hand job in the back of a movie theater in the seventh grade and him returning the favor later that same week in his garage while his mom and sister were inside, to finally taking each other's virginity the summer before freshman year in a clumsy, bumbling encounter that was perfect for them. Honestly that was probably the only time, other than the night Beth was conceived, that sex had ever meant anything to him.

Anyway, he knows he won't have much trouble getting Santana to do him a solid, and she won't interrogate him too much because she'll know that it's important. Despite his reputation as a slacker, he never completely blows off school because he knows it'll piss off his mom way more than it's worth. Also he doesn't tell anyone this but he actually does like some of his classes; he just has his routine down to a science so no one can tell when he's sleeping, fucking off or actually taking notes in class. (And people say he's not creative and doesn't apply himself…bullshit).

"Look, San, I gotta do shit today that my mom doesn't know about yet because I don't know how long it's gonna take. I'll tell her, I swear, but I need to you to do me a solid."

"Call you in?"

"Please." He rarely uses that word, but he knows he owes Santana for this, and she _is_ his best friend. They're just now recovering from the rough patch they went through when he fucked Quinn when they were supposedly exclusively fucking, and their friendship is a lot more sexual than most people's with their best friends but it works for them and Santana Lopez is one of exactly two (probably on it's way to being three) people he trusts in the world.

"Yeah, I'll do it. Everything cool?"

"Fuck, S, I don't know, but it's got to do with Berry. I don't know where the fuck she is."

"Shit, yeah, I mean I noticed she wasn't at school yesterday which never happens, but we only have a few morning classes together so I didn't think much of it. You sure she never came in at all?"

"Yeah, I got Cammie, you know Figgins' hot receptionist?" Santana murmurs her assent. "I got her to give me Berry's locker combo, and I looked in her locker during fifth period. None of her books were there and there was a to-do list for yesterday pinned up on the door which she must have written Friday."

"She's probably just sick. I think you're getting too worried."

"I know she's not sick," he disagrees immediately. "She texted me a few days ago saying that she was rushing out of town to Ann Arbor and hasn't responded to anything since."

"Why Ann Arbor?"

"Well one of her dads teaches at Michigan, but from her text it seemed like an emergency. Fuck, S, I'm scared. I'm worried about her. I don't fuckin' worry about people other than Eliza, my ma and you."

"Well, Jesus, Noah, it's becoming pretty clear how you feel about this girl. Even if I don't get it, I respect it, so go to Ann Arbor, find her, I'm sure everything's fine, and I'll call you into school and pick up Eliza or whatever this afternoon."

"Thanks, I owe you. Like, for real, San. Whatever you need, okay?"

"I know. Don't worry about it. I got you."

"Thanks, S. Love ya long time."

"Back at ya, Puckerman. You know where I am if you need anything."

"Yeah. I'll let you know when I figure this shit out." He clicks his phone shut, knowing that Santana understands that was the end of the conversation. With that taken care of, he merges onto I-75, able to focus all his attention on figuring out where the fuck Rachel could be.

By the time he gets off the interstate in Ann Arbor, it's nearly 11 o'clock, and he's figured the best starting point would be to find her Dad's office at the University of Michigan. He scores on a parking spot next to a sign pointing to the admissions building and follows the arrows until he's walking through the door of an imposing building. He walks up to the guy sitting behind the front desk, attempting to simultaneously be friendly and serious. "Hey, man, can you tell me where I can find Hiram Berry's office, please?"

The kid looks up at him, and Puck can tell immediately that there's no way the two of them would ever get along. "Professor Berry is extremely busy and important. If you don't have an appointment, which I sincerely doubt you do if you don't know where his office is, then you're not going to be able to see him."

"Just tell me where his office is."

The kid rolls his eyes but tells him the name of the building and the number, shoving a brochure in his general direction before looking down to some fuckin' geeky textbook. He doesn't bother asking for directions, knowing he'll have much better luck asking a girl who's milling around outside. When he steps back into the sun, there's a girl walking along the sidewalk, so he flies down the steps to catch her.

She tells him she's actually heading to the same building so she'll walk him. Then she casts him a sidelong glance and says "Professor Berry is incredible. Are you in one of his classes?"

Puck shakes his head, not in the mood to construct a lie to keep up the pretense that he's in college. "Nah, I actually don't go here, but Professor Berry's daughter is one of my best friends, so I'm trying to track her down."

The girl sends him a long, confused look. "If you're such good friends with her, don't you have her number?"

He chuckles a bit. "I do have her number, but she texted me a few days ago saying that she was rushing out of town to here, and I texted and called her about a million times since and she hasn't responded."

"So you just came here looking for her dad."

"Yep. I figured this would be the best place to start, and if he wasn't here, maybe someone around here would know."

"That's so sweet of you."

"Nah, she's just my friend. I've got her back."

She smiles and begins to ascend the front steps of another imposing building. "Here we are," her voice echoes as they enter the cavernous first floor. "I assume you can find the office alright on your own?"

He nods and smiles before thanking her and scaling the steps to the third floor two at a time. It takes no time before he's knocking on the closed door labeled Hiram Berry and then leaning against the wall waiting for a response. When two minutes go by, he knocks again, and again after another two minutes. After two more rounds of knocking, a door just down the hall creeks open and a short man walks toward him. "Can I help you?"

Puck nods and strides to meet the man halfway. "I hope so. My name is Noah Puckerman, and I'm looking for Professor Hiram Berry."

The man regards him with a calculating gaze through his wire rimmed glasses. "Noah Puckerman? Are you a student here?"

"No, sir, I'm still in high school, sir. I actually live down in Lima, Ohio, where Professor Berry lives. I'm good friends with his daughter."

He can tell that this little man is interested now. "If you're friends with Rachel, surely you know what happened, then?"

Puck's stomach plummets to his feet and his heart races and he feels sick, sick, _sick._ "No, I don't know what happened. That's actually why I'm here. Rachel texted me a couple days ago saying she was rushing off to Ann Arbor and hasn't responded since."

"Well, she's probably had a lot on her plate. Hiram had a massive heart attack a few days ago and is at the University of Michigan hospital. Last I heard—that was last night around 10—he was still unconscious."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Rachel's dad is lying in serious condition in a hospital bed, and he's just now finding out, several days after the fact. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck._

Based on the sympathetic look the man shoots him, Puck assumes that his anguish is showing on his face or he let one of those many curses out. Or both. But he's not really worried about it because the look is sympathetic, not angry or judgmental. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he realizes how nice it is for someone to just look at him like he's a normal kid, not like he's about to go fuck someone totally inappropriate or really go off the deep end and blow up the town or some other ridiculous shit that he's been accused of in his life.

But this really isn't the time for revelations. He needs to get his shit together and get to the hospital, but he has no idea how to get back to his car or where the fuck the hospital is, so he looks at the man who's still standing next to him hopefully. "Could you tell me how to get to the admissions building? I parked right outside there, but someone led me here, and I think I'd get lost going there. Fuck, I need to get to Rachel."

"Look, son, I don't know what your relationship is with Rachel or with Hiram and Leroy, but you'll be doing nobody any good if you show up this worked up. Why don't I print some directions for you, walk you back to your car, give you a few more details and then you can head over to the hospital?"

There's a vocal part of him that wants to tell the guy to go fuck himself, that he knows Rachel and she's really all that he's worried about, but his usually absent logical side wins out and he nods curtly and shuffles behind the man to his office. Once they're standing in the well-lit room, Puck finally offers his hand and reintroduces himself. "Noah Puckerman, I live in Lima and go to school with Rachel."

The little man shakes his hand. "Josh Bornstein. Hiram and I have been working together here at the university for several years now. We've become close because of our shared faith. Jews have to stick together."

Puck can't help but laugh at the gusto with which the man says it. "I'm Jewish, too, sir. My mom says the same thing. She's crazy about getting me and Rachel together."

Bornstein laughs and leads him out of the office, making sure it's locked behind them. "My mother fancied herself quite a matchmaker as well. How do you feel about your mother's plan?"

"I think she's batshit crazy, but if she's gonna arrange a marriage for me, at least I can, like, stand Rachel. She coulda picked way worse people, y'know? Rachel's pretty great. And have you heard her sing?"

"I haven't had the pleasure, but I hear it's otherworldly."

Puck nods and he knows it looks overeager, but if there's something he thinks is worth getting (over)excited about, it's Rachel singing ability. "I think everyone in the world should get to hear her singing. She's that fucking good. In like five or whatever years, you're gonna be sittin' in the office of yours and Hiram's gonna be sittin' there in his and you're gonna hear some ridiculous fuckin' screamin' and you're gonna know that Rachel Berry landed the lead in some Broadway show that's gonna win a million Tony Awards and be absurdly famous. Just wait and see."

Josh smiles at Noah as the teen slows down next to an antique Ford truck. "This is me. Thanks for walking me here. I actually am a lot calmer than I was feeling."

"It was my pleasure, Noah. Please send my best to the Berry family." Puck nods and climbs into his truck, flipping the engine and hearing it roar to life. He's just about to pull away when he hears his name again. It's Josh looking back from about ten feet away. "You should tell Rachel how you feel. If you love her as much as it seems, you want to be beside her when she gets that role. You want her to be more than a regret from high school because you were too afraid to go after what you wanted."

Puck nods, but inside he thinks it's all sort of bullshit. Sure, he and Rachel are friends, but he doesn't love her in any other way. He's certainly not in love with her or looking to spend the rest of his life with her. Is he?

_Oh, shit._

That can't be it because he's Puck, and he's not scared of anything. Josh is just an old, senile man who has no idea what he's talking about. He's only been scared twice since his dad bailed. Once for a full fuckin' nine months when Quinn was pregnant with his baby, a tiny little girl who is the only person he's allowed himself to love completely since his father left. And the other time is still occurring. He's been terrified and anxious and edgy since he got that text from Rachel and hasn't been able to get a response.

_ Oh, fuck. He's totally fuckin' falling for Rachel Berry, and they're just fucking friends._ _He finally fuckin' likes an available girl, and she's put him so far in the friends zone, he might as well be her goddamn brother._

He doesn't really know what to do with another revelation, but he pulls up to the hospital before he can think a whole lot more, so all that stuff scatters to the back of his mind and focusing on Rachel is forefront once again.

Because he really has never had a moral issue with lying and he knows all about hospital policy since his mom's a nurse, he tells the woman at the front desk that he's Hiram and Leroy's son and is immediately given Hiram's room number with a sympathetic look. He takes off in the direction he's pointed, bypassing the elevator to take the stairs. He doesn't want to waste time waiting around when he could be on the move toward Rachel. When he gets to the room, though, he realizes that he has no idea what he's going to do or say or how he's going to interact with Leroy.

He peeks his head around the corner and sees that Hiram is asleep and Leroy's back is turned, so only Rachel can see him, and it only takes a couple of moments for her to notice the movement in the doorway and then her eyes meet his. They're both completely still for a couple of seconds before she's out of her seat and hurrying across the room and into his arms.

When they let go, he doesn't know what to say so he holds up the festive little party bag that he's had with him since the night before in Lima. She looks at him with questions written all over her face, but he just shakes the bag a little bit and waits for her to take it out of his hands.

She does and as she pulls the first few items out, he practically can see her brain trying to work out what's going on. She sets sheet music for "Breathe" by Anna Nalick down after reading the note he scratched on the top (_You would sound beautiful singing this song), _next are a few separate pieces of sheet music with songs that he thought the group would sound good on. After, she scans over a rough arrangement of Nat King Cole's song "Unforgettable" because he's always secretly loved that song, and he thinks it fits them perfectly. But as she checks the arrangement, he suddenly feels extremely self-conscious, and he runs his hand over the back of his head, the tightness in his chest loosening when she beams at him before digging her hand back into the bag. Her eyes widen when she pulls a pair of black leggings out of the bag and sees that they're the correct size in her favorite brand.

Blinking quickly at him, her mouth opens, but no words come out at first, so she closes and reopens it to try again. "How did you know? And the leggings, Noah? These are expensive. And my size and the brand?"

He looks at the floor and scuffs his Jordans against the tile self-consciously, hands burrowing in his pockets. "It involved some minor rule breaking, and some minor breaking and entering—although I did use the spare key. And I'm good for a trip to Starbucks and a carton of soy milk when you're back in Lima. I would have brought it now but I had no idea what I was gonna find when I got here."

She beams at him again, and the smile on her face erases the distress and sadness and exhaustion he had seen when he first entered the room, and, honestly, just seeing that look on her face makes all the effort and the money and the driving time and the lecture he's going to get from his mom for skipping school totally worth it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey, everyone! Sorry it's been so long-it's just been a crazy couple of weeks, and I had a really hard time with this chapter, but I'm excited with what's planned for Chapter 11 and beyond so hopefully that excitement will make the words flow better. Thanks for sticking with it!**

**Chapter 10**

It's basically really fucked how worried about Rachel he was compared to how fine she is. Obviously she's shaken up about her dad's heart attack, and also about how he might have to have bypass surgery (they're talking about double or maybe even triple), but physically she's totally fine-which he sort of figured she was but he didn't know for sure so there was still that lingering doubt in the back of his mind.

But he's also super mad that she didn't respond to any of his texts, calls or even Facebook messages because that shit's messed up. It was obvious how worried he was, so would it really have killed her to take 30 fucking seconds out of her day to send him a quick "hey, I'm still alive" text?

(He thinks definitely not).

So yeah, the plan is, as soon as he gets her alone and somewhat emotionally stable, he's going to have to ask her about that because just letting him sit around Lima and worry for a couple days isn't cool. It's not good for his heart or for his rep, and even though he doesn't care too much about that shit, he's still a teenager so he wants to keep it as intact as possible if he can.

Plus, a quick text would have saved him a shitload of money in gas and a lecture that he's not looking forward to from his mom. (He ignores the voice in the back of his head telling him that if he had known what was going on he would have come anyway just to be there for her. But he totally would have).

Once Leroy has finally convinced Rachel that he'll be okay alone for an hour or so, she and Noah head down to the hospital cafeteria. He buys her a salad and a bottle of water and a turkey sandwich and a Gatorade for himself, and they pick a table in the back corner of the cafeteria, as secluded as they can get in the big, open room.

He watches her open and dress her salad with balsamic vinaigrette (which he thinks tastes like shit) before he starts talking. "Sometimes when my best friend sends me five million fuckin' texts, I respond to one of 'em."

Her brow is furrowed in confusion when she looks up, and it's so adorable that he has to remind himself that he's pissed at her. "I don't know what you're talking about, Noah."

"What the fuck? I texted you like 50 times and called you like 20 more. I even wrote on your wall and you know how I feel about Facebook posts."

"Oh, Noah, I wasn't ignoring you. I left my phone in the car and by the time I remembered it, it was completely dead, and I left my charger at home."

"Oh." He grumbles something unintelligibly. "Well how was I supposed to know that?" he asks childishly. Then more solemnly, "I was really worried about you, Rachel."

Her breath catches because he doesn't really ever call her Rachel except if he's angry or frustrated with her or when he's being extremely serious. She can tell that his anger from her "ignoring" his messages has resided so she knows it's the third option. She loves when he's really serious, even if the circumstances under which he acts that way are not usually too wonderful.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I would have responded if I had seen your messages, but I put my phone away right after I texted you, and then it died. Is that why you're here? How did you know where to go?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm here. Why else would I be here? You sent me a fuckin' text that you were running off in a hurry and then didn't tell me why you were going. For. Three. Fuckin'. Days. You just disappeared. So yeah, that's fuckin' why I'm here."

"Noah," her voice is pleading, and he realizes just how mad and bitter he must sound. "Please don't be angry with me. I wasn't try to scare or worry you. I simply forgot about my phone."

"I'm not mad, B." He takes an enormous bite of his sandwich and then speaks through it. "I was just afraid something had happened to you, so last night I decided that if you hadn't responded by today, I was gonna just come here and figure it the fuck out for myself. So I did."

"That's quite sweet of you but completely unnecessary. I'm just fine, as you can see for yourself now that you're here."

"And that's the fuckin' point, Berry. Now that I'm here I can see for myself, but before when you weren't answering anything, I had no fuckin' clue. That shit's just not cool. So yeah, I'd say it was fuckin' necessary."

"Well, regardless, now that you know I'm just fine, you can head back to Lima. I don't want you missing any school on account of me."

"Yeah, that's sure as fuck not happenin'. I drove all the way up here, so I think I'll at least stay here and take care of you."

"Don't be absurd. There's no need for you to 'take care of me.' I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know."

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, usually, maybe. But I'd bet anything I own that you're not taking care of yourself at all. You're takin' care of your dad and you're takin' care of your daddy, but I bet you're totally forgettin' about yourself."

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself even under conditions of extreme duress, thank you very much."

He just looks at her across the table for several long moments. "You know, it's okay to need people sometimes. It's okay to ask for help."

She levels him with a steady stare. "You should take your own advice, Noah."

Smirking back at her, he's quick to respond. "I'll strike you a deal, babe."

"Possibly."

"You let me stay and take care of you, and next time I need something serious, I'll call you up. I'll ask you for help even if I don't want to."  
"I can't ask you to miss school for me. I'll be fine here. Anyway, why would you want to stay here at a hospital with me for someone you don't know?"

He rolls his eyes. "Fuck, Rachel. Because you're my friend and because it's your dad. Christ, you don't get it, do you?"

"Get what exactly? You are aware that I've never really had a friend before?"

"Fuck, do you have to be so depressing all the time?"

"Gee, Noah, I'm so sorry that my feelings are too depressing for you. I don't know why I didn't censor myself around you. I should always be making sure to spare my friends my pain—after all, they aren't around to be there for me."

He can feel his mouth hanging open, and he tries to force out some type of sound to stop her as she shoots out of her chair and stomps across the cafeteria, throwing her half-eaten salad angrily in the trash bin by the door, but he can't find any words, never mind the right ones.

When she spins around the corner and out of sight, he looks down at his sandwich and immediately realizes that his appetite is completely gone. Groaning out a frustrated "fuck," he tosses his sandwich and follows Rachel out, ignoring the curious and beady eyes of the woman at the next table over. He's just stepped out of the cafeteria when it occurs to him that Rachel probably needs some time to herself and maybe some time to cool off, especially since she probably has a right to pissed at him. Her dad _is_ in the hospital, so it's not surprising that her emotions are running high and she's reacting strongly to everything. He ends up dropping a buck on a copy of the _Detroit Free Press_, reading the sports section cover to cover and then completing the Sudoku before he starts on the crossword puzzle. He's gotten about half the clues and is starting to run into some serious gaps in his knowledge when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement and someone sits down across from him.

Leroy Berry. Fan-fuckin'-tastic.

It's not like he doesn't like the guy. He actually think he's pretty cool as dads go, and he's definitely always felt more comfortable around Leroy than he does around Hiram, but judging by the way Leroy's looking at him, he's seen Rachel and heard about their disagreement. But the older man just looks over the crossword and tells him that 18-across is Jefferson. ("Thomas Jefferson. He made a lot of his contributions by correspondence while he was living in France.")

They sit in silence for several more minutes before Leroy speaks. "Look, Noah, I don't think you drove up here from Lima to sit in the University of Michigan Hospital cafeteria and do the _Detroit Free Press_ Sudoku and crossword puzzle, so why are you sitting down here while my daughter is upstairs trying not to cry?"

His heart clenches painfully at the thought of her crying (fuck, he's _such_ a pussy), but he just shrugs at Leroy. He's not quite ready to admit to anyone but Rachel that their fight was his fault. They sit there through another long stretch of silence before Leroy decides to speak again.

"Noah, you remind me a lot of how I was when I was your age. Angry at the world—maybe for different reasons, hurt, beaten down. I lashed out, and I needed someone to give me a chance, to understand me, and fortunately there was a teacher at my school in Boston that was willing to listen to me and to try to understand me even though I had crossed a lot of lines and had been given a lot of chances. Rachel might be that person for you, and if she is, I want you to listen to her and not push her away. This isn't a talk about your intentions with my daughter or about protecting my daughter's heart. This is about you and repairing yours, and I think, if you believe that Rachel can help you with that, you need to value her opinion and let her in so she that she can actually help you."

"I don't try to push her away." Puck doesn't look up because he can feel the emotion on his face, and he doesn't particularly want Leroy to see it. Instead, he scribbles mindlessly in the margins of the newspaper in front of him. "Sometimes, I just can't make myself be nice or I can't think of the right words to say and all the wrong ones come out."

There's understanding and amusement in Leroy's voice when he answers, but his tone quickly becomes serious. "I know, Noah, I was the same way when I was your age. But Rachel was blessed with a big heart. She loves with all of it; she feels so passionately and so deeply, for better and for worse. She's also generous with that love—she'll forgive and give second and third and fourth chances to people because she always, always sees the good in everyone, no matter what they might have done to her."

At this point, Puck feels compelled to look up because he's figured this out about Rachel, and he doesn't want her dads to think that he doesn't understand just how deeply she feels things because even though he's definitely totally stunted when it comes to his own emotions, he understands Rachel's and ever since he became friends with her he's tried really, really hard to never hurt her.

"I know, Mr. Berry, I do. And I always try to not hurt her because she has really been such an amazing friend to me, but sometimes I'm still just a jerk, no matter how hard I try not to be."

"That's not true, Noah, and I know someday you'll see that. My daughter has decided to make increasing your self-esteem her number one goal, and she doesn't really tend to give up on things, so I'm sure she'll succeed sooner or later. Now, I haven't eaten a proper meal in several days so I think I'm going to drive around and see if I can find something that will actually fill me up. I trust that you and Rachel can keep Hiram company for an hour or so? I haven't seen the outside world in three days."

"Of course, sir. I'll go up there now and take care of things with Rachel, too."

"Thank you, Noah. And really, please don't ever call me 'Mr. Berry' or 'sir' again. It's Leroy."

Noah just nods and smiles before he stands, collecting his newspaper and making his way out of the cafeteria.

* * *

When he gets up to Hiram's room, he can hear the sniffles before he turns to go through the door. He leans against the doorway and just looks at her. She's holding her dad's hand and her head is cushioned on the bed next to their joined hands, so he can't see her face, but he can tell she's still trying not cry by the way her shoulders are shaking and her uneven breathing keeps hitching in her throat.

He's not really sure how their conversation went so wrong, so he just walks into the room, runs a comforting hand down Rachel's spine and murmurs that he's sorry in her ear. That seems to do the trick because she stands and burrows into his embrace, muffling her cries on his shoulder and wrapping her arms tight around his neck.

Everything feels so much calmer and more under control now that he knows they're okay. It's a little disconcerting how fixing things with her seems to fix everything, but he shoves that to the side and just focuses on running a hand up and down her spine and whispering reassuring words in her ear.

Leroy ends up being gone for several hours, so he and Rachel just sit by Hiram's bedside, talking and joking quietly with a Friends marathon playing on the TV in the corner. They're settled into the oversized armchair next to Hiram's bed watching the episode of Friends when Monica and Chandler are house-hunting and find out that Chandler's ex-girlfriend, Janice, is looking at the house next door when Leroy finally returns. Rachel is comfortably burrowed into Noah's side, her head resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped securely around her waist. Leroy can't help but smile at the picture they make, looking extremely relaxed together despite the circumstances. If this situation doesn't make them realize just how important they are to one another, he's not sure that anything will. Honestly, he didn't raise his daughter to be so damn oblivious. It's quite clear that this boy is crazy for her, and she's still insistent that they're nothing more than friends.

He clears his throat after a moment, and their relaxed position immediately changes, with Rachel shooting up to sit on the arm of the chair and Puck retracting his arm as if he's been burned. Choking back a chuckle, Leroy steps into the room and smiles at the pair, asking about the episode of Friends playing on the television.

Rachel starts chattering to her dad about the episode, and he knows the two of them can go on for a while about the show (after all, Rachel was named for Jennifer Aniston's character), so when she takes a breath, he cuts in with a mumbled excuse about calling his mom, just to get a breath of air from outside the room for a moment. But when he sees the time, he realizes that he actually should probably give his mom a call since about an hour ago he had texted Santana and asked her pick up Eliza and bring her to her after-school dance lesson. So he dials his mom's number and takes a deep breath, thinking that this offense should be a little bit easier to talk his way out of than some of the things he's done in the past.

Sure enough when his mom picks up and he explains the whole situation, she's completely understanding of his actions and even tells him that he can miss another day of school if need be and that she's "extremely impressed with the initiative he took to make sure that Rachel is okay, while still making sure that his responsibilities were taken care of." He knows that's just a fancy way of saying "good job", but it makes him pretty happy to realize that for once, he did something to make his mother proud of him rather than ashamed.

After he calls his mom, he and Rachel hang around with Leroy in Hiram's room for another hours or so, before Leroy suggests that Puck drive Rachel back to Lima so she doesn't miss any more school. He even says that it would be alright if Puck stayed with her at the Berrys' house for as long as Hiram is hospitalized in Michigan.

Rachel is extremely reluctant to go, but eventually Leroy is able to appeal to her academically responsible side, so the two of them clamber into Puck's truck and head back to Lima, singing along to songs on Puck's favorite oldies station as they drive down the Interstate. Somewhere, right around where they cross the state border back into Ohio, their fingers become intertwined. Neither one of them is sure who reached over first, but they hold hands all the way back to Lima, only pulling apart when they're stopped in Puck's driveway, so he can check in with his mom and sister and grab some clothes for the next few days before they make their way to Rachel's for the night.

The second they step inside he thinks it might have been a mistake. The way his mom is lurking in the door between the kitchen and the living room as they step inside is more than a little bit creepy, and while he loves his mom and most of the shit he talks about her is just bravado, he's not really sure what the fuck she's trying to accomplish. Rachel's already stretched extremely thin with the stress from her dad's illness, so smothering her and freaking her the fuck out, no matter how well-intentioned it is, is just not a good idea. But since they're already in the kitchen and his mom is already advancing with this huge, weird smile on her face, there's not a whole lot he can do about it now.

When he looks over at Rachel, she's smiling a little bit, and he's going to try and see if she's okay with all this, but then his mom is pulling Rachel into her arms and holding her close and the next thing he knows, the three of them are sitting around the Puckermans' kitchen table cradling mugs of tea and talking about Hiram's prognosis.

He spends a while just watching Rachel. She really is beautiful—everything from her hot as fuck body to her distinctly Jewish nose works together to form this girl, this totally underrated girl that just really gorgeous. They talk for a while, but he's really just watching her the entire time so he notices when she keeps making this cute little face that he knows she makes when she's trying not to yawn, and it's really obvious to him that she's just trying really hard not to offend his mother, but she's fuckin' beat, so he shamelessly interrupts his mom's story about some old bat at their temple, wrapping an arm around the back of Rachel's chair as he does so. "Ma, I don't give a shit about Mrs. Scott's old fuckin' cats, and I bet Berry doesn't either. I'm fuckin' exhausted, so you mind if we get going?"

Mrs. Puckerman shoots out of her chair and starts bustling around the kitchen. "Of course not, Noah, I was so excited to see you two that I didn't even think of how tired you must be, especially you, Rachel, dear." She pulls an enormous plastic Tupperware from the refrigerator and hands it to Rachel. "Just a little kosher dish I whipped up you and your dads, dear. You can freeze it, and it'll be good for quite a while, and please let me know if you need anything else."

Rachel nods, smiles and hugs Mrs. Puckerman, graciously thanking her for everything before she heads toward the front door. Puck moves to follow her, but as he brushes past his mom, she grabs his wrist and holds him back. "Noah, take care of that girl. I'll take care of Eliza—you just make sure that Rachel is okay. She's fragile; call it mother's intuition, but I can tell."

Irritated though he is with his mother's meddling, he just nods and meets his mother's serious gaze. "I know, Ma. Don't worry; I promise she's in good hands with me."

"Okay, Noah, just keep me updated. I love you."

"Yeah, you too, Ma."

When makes it out to the front door where Rachel is waiting with questions in her eyes, he just shrugs and pushes open the front door for her to make her way out to his truck. No way is she going to know about the conversation that just transpired between him and his mom.

In a way he's glad that she's distracted because it means that she doesn't pry, and he hates lying to her, but on the other hand, he knows that she's thinking about her dad lying extremely ill in a hospital bed and her daddy worried and alone. It's one of the biggest things he never understood about her before he got to know her, but she's really incredibly selfless and generous, despite how sure of her talent she is.

But they drive across town to Rachel's house in silence, go inside in silence, walk into the kitchen in silence. They don't speak until after Rachel has stored the food his mom made in the freezer and even then, she just asks him if he wants something to eat. He shakes his head; he's so exhausted that he just wants to sleep, and he certainly doesn't want Rachel to think or feel like she has to play the dutiful hostess to him tonight.

"I'm not hungry either," she tells him. "I think I'm just going to go to bed."

He nods and follows her up the stairs, pressing a kiss to her forehead before she goes into her room, and he makes his way to the guest room for the night. Even though he's exhausted, he spends a long time tossing and turning because the noises of the house and the neighborhood are unfamiliar, and every time he hears a strange sound or creaking, he's afraid it's Rachel wandering around because she can't sleep but doesn't want to bother him.

Around two in the morning, he's been nodding off and then jerking awake about twenty minutes later pretty consistently for a couple of hours when the door to the guest room swings open and he hears her little footsteps padding across the carpeted floor. The footsteps stop before he hears her speak. "Noah? Are you awake?"

"Yeah, Rach, I'm here. What's up?" He rolls over and squints through the dark to make out her face. She looks worried and a little bit nervous, so he lifts the side of the covers he's burrowed under. "You wanna climb in?"

She nods, and she looks so much like a little kid that this ridiculous rush of protectiveness surges through him. It's just a twin bed, so they're pressed together once she's all settled in, but he feels so much more comfortable in her house now that she's in his arms.

"Were you wandering around, baby?"

The warmth with which he utters the endearments sends affection for him coursing through her veins, and she snuggles closer to his warm chest. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep."

"You shouldn't have been alone. You should have come in and found me."

"I didn't want to bother you, Noah. There's no sense in us both being up."

He chuckles a little, even though nothing about this is really funny. "There's no point in me being here if I'm not even helping you."

"I just didn't want to bother you."

"Well, I want to help you. That's why I'm staying with you, okay, baby?"

She doesn't answer verbally, but he can feel her nodding against his chest. "Good, now that we've got that sorted out, can we go sleep in your room? As much as I love having your hot little body all pressed up against me, this bed is too fuckin' tiny for two of us."

She giggles, and he remembers again just how much he loves that sound, so he spends the next few minutes as they make their way to her room and get settled in her (much bigger) bed, coaxing more giggles from her until she yawns hugely, tucks herself into his arms and whispers good night into his chest. She's almost immediately asleep, and he follows a few minutes after, drifting off as he strokes her hair

* * *

"So what the fuck happened?"

He and Santana are sitting side by side on the swing set at the local park a couple days later. Eliza has a soccer game in a little while, and his mom's working so transportation fell to him. Santana was tagging along because she had promised Eliza that she'd get to a game as soon as possible. The two of them had wandered away from the crowd of parents, deciding to hang out on the deserted playground away from the prying eyes and ears of the gossiping Lima housewives. He's a little distracted though, watching Eliza warm up on the soccer field in the distance. "With what?"

"With Berry—when you pulled that little disappearing act this week. I haven't really talked to you since."

"Oh, yeah," he looks over at her, brow furrowed, a little surprised that it's been that long since they've talked. "I've been fuckin' busy as hell. Been stayin' with Rachel because her dad's still in the hospital and her daddy's staying up in Ann Arbor with him."

"Is her dad gonna be okay?" Santana sounds genuinely concerned, and he knows it's mostly (if not all) because she knows how much Rachel's come to mean to him.

"They don't know yet. He's conscious and everything but they're definitely talking about bypass which I guess can be pretty dangerous."

"Yeah. How's Berry holding up?"

He shrugs a little. "She was alright this week once we got back from Ann Arbor, but she convinced her daddy to let her drive herself back up there for the weekend, so I haven't really gotten to talk to her that much. I just hope she's taking care of herself."

"What do you mean?" Santana's curious, as she never figured Rachel Berry to be a person who forgets to take care of herself.

"It would be just like her to be so worried about her dad and her daddy that she just totally neglects everything she needs all weekend. I mean I won't be surprised at all if she forgets to eat, and I know she's going to be bustlin' all over the place trying to make everything perfect for him, so she probably won't sleep enough."

"I'm sure her other father will take care of her," Santana responds slowly. She's not sure what to do with this Puck. They've been best friends for a long time, but she's never seen him like this.

"I don't know about that. She's so good at appearing strong, but she needs people too. I just wish I could be there for her, but she refused to let me come. She said that Eliza's game is more important."

Santana's rolling her eyes before he's even finished the sentence. "This is fuckin' ridiculous; you two are so in love it's disgusting, and you guys don't even realize what you have."

He shoots out of the swing. "What the fuck, Lopez? I ain't in love with anyone, so you can go ahead and take that back right now."

"Fuck, Puckerman if you haven't figured it out by now, you're not gonna. You're totally fuckin' stupid for Rachel Berry, and it's way too late to do anything about it, so you might as well just accept it."

He shakes his head and stomps (a bit childishly, he can admit) back toward Eliza's game, just in time to watch her start. As the game goes on, he sees Santana in his peripheral vision, and it just makes him think of the conversation they just had, which in turn makes him think of Rachel.

Rachel whose smile brightens his day.

Rachel whose voice makes even the worst things seem alright.

Rachel whose kindness and selflessness even in one of her worst hours got him through everything with Beth's adoption

Rachel who he followed to Ann Arbor with nothing more than tank full of gas and worry coursing through his veins.

Rachel who he's _totally fuckin' in love with._

_Holy fucking shit._


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Puck spends the rest of the first half of Eliza's soccer game pacing and hyperventilating and generally freaking out. By halftime he's pretty much worked himself into a panic and has no idea what to do, so he decides to swallow his pride and sidles over to Santana who's standing alone behind a row of parents in fold out chairs right by the midfield line. When he approaches her, she just looks at him, her brow raised above the upper rim of her sunglasses. He knows that that's the only acknowledgement that he's going to get since he blew up at her for no real reason, but he also knows that she's not going to push him to talk before he's ready, so he takes a couple more minutes to gather his thoughts and then decides that he doesn't want to talk about this on the sidelines of Eliza's game. More than one of the women standing around him and Santana are hopeless gossips, and he doesn't need this shit circulating through Lima's middle-aged woman before he even sees Rachel again. But he does wrap an arm around Santana's shoulders and pull her into his side to talk softly into her ear. "You were right. But I don't know what the fuck to do about it."

She nods without taking her eyes off the game which has started up again. "You wanna head out somewhere later, once your mom gets home from work?"

"Yeah, fuck, I guess I gotta figure this shit out."

Santana turns under his arm and pushes her sunglasses on to the top of her head, leveling him with a serious gaze. "You really do. You don't want to string her along, and you don't want to hurt her."

"Fuck, I know, San. But I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do, either."

Again she nods before tucking herself back securely into his side and turning back to face the field. "We'll talk about it later. Just watch Eliza for now."

He tries to; he really does, but he can't help but be distracted. He's never felt this way about anyone before, and he doesn't have any idea what to make of it. On one hand, he knows that when he's around Rachel, he's pretty much always happy and content with his life, and when he's not around her, he tends to miss her and think about her pretty much constantly.

But, fuck, there's a whole other side of it, one that he'll probably never admit to anybody, and that's the side that thinks with a brain that probably will never recover from being abandoned by Elijah Puckerman at a young age. That side of him lives in constant fear that as soon as he lets his guard down and lets a person in, they'll leave him or worse: snatch someone even more important away from him (Beth and Quinn). And as much as he thought he loved Quinn and as much as he does love Beth, he can't imagine anything hurting as much as the idea of Rachel Berry leaving his life.

He has to get some separation before she becomes any more important to him. It's the only way because she's Rachel Berry. She's bright lights and big cities and even bigger dreams. She's NYU and Broadway and New York City. And he's Noah Puckerman. He's a dad at 16 and no ambition. He's small, rural town USA. He's living paycheck to paycheck, living a blue-collar life somewhere in America's heartland where he'll probably never even see the ocean, never mind New York City.

Even if she did feel the same way (which, why would she?), there would be an expiration date on their relationship because he would never hold her back. The only thing that would be worse than losing her would be the guilt of being the one to keep her from the bright lights of the city and her big dreams. So yeah, pushing her away isn't going to be fun right now, not when she's become such an important part of his life, not when he can't look at her without wanting her, not when they still have two more years of high school and Glee Club and now that he knows her, he can't go back to hating her and dousing her with slushies, but it's way better than losing her in a couple of years to some douche-baggy, rich, well-dressed and well-groomed city prick or even worse, keeping her in Lima to teach music to talentless middle school kids and live in a shitty little house on the outskirts of Lima, just hoping they're going to be able to make ends meet each month.

So yeah, by the time his mom gets home from work and he and Santana can actually get away to talk about this stuff, he's already come to the conclusion that he has to push her away. In the long run, it will be what's best for both of them.

He and Santana have a spot just outside the city limits of Lima. He found it when he was 12 and just started walking one day. It used to be a day-long excursion for them to visit it because it's a good five miles from his house, and before either of them got their licenses they had to ride their bikes, but it's the spot where they lost their virginity to each other, and it holds a lot of special memories from throughout their friendship. It's to this clearing that Puck drives the two of them once his mom gets home from work, and he's free to go out.

Once they've settled on a couple of thick fleece blankets in the bed of his truck, Santana makes him tell her everything from the first moment he realized that he might have any feelings that were anything more than platonic for Rachel Berry. He catches her up to the present moment and then tells her the most important part. "I've never felt like this about anyone. Not even Quinn when she was pregnant."

Santana manages to stop herself from rolling her eyes because no matter how much she hates the fact that Quinn and Puck and Beth happened, she has to accept that, until now, that was the most intensely Puck had ever felt about a girl, thus it served as his measuring stick for any other relationship, at least for the time being. But she's not going to sugarcoat anything for him—it's not her style, and their similar appreciation for the truth is one of the reasons that they're best friends.

"Of course you've never felt like this before. You've never even really had an honest-to-God girlfriend before, and you and Berry are endgame."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I could barely figure out the fact that I love her. It's way too soon to be talking about endgame. I'm sixteen fucking years old, Santana."

Santana nods. "I know how old you are, Puckerman. But the way you treat Rachel, the way you talk about her and the things you do for her—you act much older than sixteen. What you guys have is real shit, and the sooner you realize that the happier you'll both be."

"Fuck that noise. Seriously, San, I gotta get some space from her anyway."

She looks at him like he's insane. "Space? Most people want to get closer to a person when they realize that they're in love with them."

"Seriously, fuck. that." He says the words slowly for emphasis. "She's gonna end up leavin' in a coupla years anyway if she doesn't fuckin' ditch me before that like everyone else has, so I'm not gonna bother with any of this bullshit."

"Fuck, Puckerman, does she even get a say in any of this?"

"San, this is all assuming she feels even a little bit for me of what I feel for her, which is a big fuckin' assumption. She's Rachel Berry; she's too good for everyone in this town, even if she doesn't realize it."

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Puck. Seriously, you should talk to her before you go making decisions about both of your lives."

He shrugs noncommittally. "I can't do this right now, Santana. I just need space from her to figure out what the fuck is going on in my head. It's like when I'm around her my head is so crowded with her and everything that she makes me feel that I can't even think about anything else. I just need a little bit of time."

Santana nods. "Okay, a little bit of time is fine." She pauses, thinking about her words, then, "Look, Puck, you know I'm always on your side; I'm always in your corner. I want you to be happy—just don't make any rash decisions for any reason, okay?"

He's deep in thought as he bobs his head in agreement, and the ride back to dropping Santana at her house is silent, as they both think about the conversation that they'll look back on as both their first adult conversation and life-changing.

* * *

At school on Monday, he hears through the Glee gossip tree that Rachel's dad was moved to Lima General Hospital the day before. She had texted him Sunday afternoon, but he had refused to open it in his newfound effort to put a little space between them, so now the little unopened envelope symbol on his phone is just taunting him. After his talk with Santana, he's trying to figure out how he's going to deal with the revelation that his feelings for Berry run so deep, and he can't do that with her distracting him all over the place.

Avoiding her at school on Monday is pretty simple. There's no Glee rehearsal on Mondays, and he and Rachel don't have any classes together because she's in all these crazy advanced courses, and he's…not. And Mondays after school he always has to rush straight over to the elementary school to make sure that he's on time to pick up Eliza, so he won't have to worry about her expecting to see him then. Really, the only time he has to put forth a ton of effort to avoid her is lunch, so he texts Santana and offers to take her to the awesome sushi place downtown that she loves as a thank you for all the talking she did with him that weekend. Santana accepts (obviously), so he tells her meet him at his truck at the beginning of lunch.

When his last class before lunch (home ec.) lets out, he shoots out of his seat and is the first out of the door instead of lingering around with flirt with the hot teacher like he usually does. He hurries through the halls, taking the long way to avoid Mr. Langford's classroom where he knows Rachel has AP Chemistry that period as well as the hallway where her locker is. He doesn't bother to put his books in his locker, electing to dump them on the floor of his truck when he gets there instead, and he powers past the quickly filling cafeteria with his head down.

It's not that he _wants_ to avoid Rachel because he really doesn't—this is seriously killing him, but he doesn't k now how to sort anything out while she's around distracting him, so he's not sure what options he has other than voiding her and trying to put some distance between them because seriously, he's Puck, there's no way he's ready to start the last (and only real) relationship of his life at sixteen.

When he gets to his truck, Santana's leaning against the locked passenger door, wearing a black leather coat over her Cheerios top, her skirt rustling against her thighs in the slight breeze. She really is beautiful, but he's totally past that part of his life now, and although they'll both always hold special places in each other's hearts, they're fuckin' kickass best friends and nothing more. But yeah, she is gorgeous, and he can't help but notice it, and since he knows girls always like to be told when they look good, and Santana's no exception, he manually unlocks and opens the door for her, and, as she climbs in, says "you look really pretty today, San."

She just smiles at him all soft and says thanks before he closes the door and goes around to the other side to climb in.

He can tell that she knows why he wants to get out school for lunch, but she doesn't say anything, and that's exactly why she's his best friend. Instead she tells him about Spanish class and Mr. Schue and Finn's ongoing bromance and what a waste of time the class is. He's got to agree with her on that one. No one really knows this because he doesn't broadcast it, and he kind of fucks around in Spanish so people don't find out, but he's pretty much been fluent ever since the three summers he spent with Santana's family on her grandparents compound in the Dominican Republic. Eliza had just been born and he was too young to babysit, and his dad had just left so the Lopez' had brought him to the Dominican with them for the summer just to get him out of his mom's hair, and they had been some of the best summers of his life. So yeah, totally off point, but also true, and also a good explanation about how he and Santana became so close.

They don't talk much over lunch. He just buys her sushi and then sits and watches while she eats it. He fuckin' hates sushi, but he doesn't mind buying it for her every now and then. He'll just eat the lunch he packed for himself in his class after lunch. There's not a lot to say about Puck and Rachel—not a lot has changed since Eliza's soccer game two days before, so they chatter about meaningless stuff until it's time to go back to the high school for their afternoon classes.

When they get back to McKinley, Santana stops him before they can get out of the car. "Look, I know you're still probably thinking about things, but just keep in mind that she's not like any of these other girls. She knows you, okay? So like, if you're worried about getting hurt or whatever, she's not gonna do that shit. Not on purpose. She's just…she's just a good person, okay?"

He nods, and that's the end of the conversation, and once again he thinks that he has to love Santana for knowing him so well and being so insightful.

But yeah, Santana's insight doesn't stop him from continuing to freak out and avoid her for the rest of the day.

After school, he hurries over to the elementary school to pick up Eliza and decides (while he's waiting for her to finish talking to her teacher about her favorite Disney movies) that he's going to have some of the guys over for video games and pizza and beer. His mom seriously never comes down to his room (it's one of the reasons that his basement room is totally kickass), and he knows she and Eliza have plans anyway, so his mom won't care as long as it's just a few guys. So he shoots a quick text to Mike, Matt, John Carter, Alex Green and Finn. The first four all agree to come over as soon as they can, but Finn doesn't respond. Things between them are back to pretty cordial, especially after the night that they drove out to Carmel with Rachel, so he's a little bit surprised that he didn't even get a response, but he doesn't think of it again until much later.

His friends all get there around six and they pool their money for pizza and beer, and then Puck drags Matt out with him to pick up the pizza and bum some beer at the 7/11 while Mike, John and Alex hang around his room playing Super Mario. Less than an hour later, they're settled in his basement with a 36 of Bud and five large pizzas, watching the Indians get their asses kicked by the Red Sox.

He's explaining to all of them about why he's rooting for the Red Sox (Ellsbury, Pedroia, obviously) when his phone rings. It's all the way across the room charging, but he jumps out of his chair and throws himself across his bed to reach it before it goes to voicemail. The last thing he needs is to ignore a call from his mom and have her come down to his room to find him. But the name on the LCD screen is not 'Mom.' It's 'Rachel.'

Flipping the phone over in his hand, he looks up at the ceiling, trying to make a snap decision on what to do. On one hand, it's been a few days since he's talked to Rachel and he _misses_ her, as strange as it is to him. He's also a little bit worried that something's seriously wrong, and she might need somebody. But on the other hand, he's never going to figure this shit out if he can't use a little bit of self-control and go an entire day without talking to her. She literally just jumbles his head up so bad that he can't even think of anything but her whenever she's around, so he presses the ignore button and tosses his phone on his bed before springing back up and joining his friends in front of the TV.

Rachel's in her room listening to James Taylor's greatest hits and working diligently on her AP Chem homework when her phone starts playing her Daddy's personalized ringtone. She assumes that he's just calling to ask what she wants him to pick up for dinner on his way home from the hospital (she's thinking a veggie burger from the vegan place two blocks from Lima General would hit the spot), so she mutters a distracted "hello" and continues to work on balancing equations.

But her daddy's somber voice stops her mid-equation. "Star, it's your daddy. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course, daddy, what's wrong?"

"Well, I just got some bad news about your dad, baby."

She sucks in a breath and wishes that someone (Noah) was there to hold her right about now. "Okay. I can be at the hospital in fifteen minutes."

"No, no, you need to focus on school, but you're sixteen, so I think you're old enough to be kept in the loop while maintaining your responsibilities."

Her heart is racing, but logically she knows it can't be too bad if her daddy isn't having her rush down to the hospital. "Okay, daddy, will you please tell me?"

"It's nothing to panic about yet, alright, Ray? We just need to see where things go from here."

"Daddy, please tell me now."

"Alright, I spoke to the doctor tonight and he said that your Dad's condition has worsened. It's possible that he might need a transplant."

Rachel's pencil clatters to the floor, rolling across the hardwood and under her bed, but she's only vaguely aware of it. "A transplant? Like, a heart transplant?"

"Yes, sweetheart, a heart transplant. I'm not sure of all the details yet, but the doctor told me that while that's still the worst-case scenario, it is a possibility."

"Okay, thanks for telling me, Daddy. Are you sure I don't need to come down to the hospital?"

"Yes, star, the doctor assured me that your Dad's condition is stable overnight, and I think it would be best if you focused on your schoolwork as much as possible, but feel free to have a friend over if you don't want to be alone. I'll probably be here late, okay?"

"Yes. I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Rachel. Your dad and I are so proud of you."

Rachel hangs up the phone and looks around her room, unsure of what to do now. She knows there's no way that she's going to be able to focus on her homework, but she's not sure if there's anything else that will sufficiently hold her attention either. Eventually, she decides to make a trip to the grocery store for some of her favorite vegan ice cream and then, when she gets back, she'll curl up and watch a Disney movie (probably Aladdin).

As she's driving across town (only the organic place all the way on the other side carries her ice cream), she dials Noah's number, but it just rings several times and then goes to voicemail. She's a little bit surprised because he almost always answers her calls, and she doesn't remember him mentioning any big plans for tonight. But she doesn't think that he's blowing her off or anything so she just tosses her phone onto the passenger seat and turns on the radio. She doesn't need him to get through anything—it's just nice to have company, and now that she's knows what it's like to have a friend it seems a lot harder to go through everything alone.

She's in the ice cream aisle when she hears a familiar masculine voice calling her name, and she turns to see Finn waving to her from the produce section. It looks like he's alone, and she's not really sure what he's doing since she knows that Carol doesn't trust him with the grocery shopping, but she smiles and makes her way over to him. She could really use a hug, anyway.

"Hi Finn," she tries to smile a little as she approaches, but she thinks all she manages to give him is a screwed-up grimace.

In return, though, he gives her one of those beautiful sheepish, genuine smiles that never fail to make her heart clench and launches into an intricate story about how he ended up doing the family grocery shopping for his mother instead of playing video games at Puck's with the rest of the guys. When he mentions Puck, her heart turns to stone and plummets into her stomach and she can feel her eyes welling with tears that she does her best to blink back. He's still talking about his mom's dinner plans and her early shift at the hospital the next morning when she has to take a deep breath, and her shoulders shake with a sob on the exhale.

He notices the change in her breathing immediately and crouches down, craning his neck so that he can see her face even as she stares resolutely at the floor. This caring, this kindness, this is why she fell for him in the first place, and but now all she wants is for it to be a different boy folding her into his arms. She doesn't fit perfectly like a puzzle piece underneath this boy's chin, and the press of his hands into her back as he rubs is just a bit too gentle. And when he tries to whisper calming words in her ear, they don't help, and his voice alone doesn't sooth her like that other boy's does. But clearly, based on the information that Finn just let slip, that other boy has no interest in her or her life tonight or in the foreseeable future, so, for tonight, hopefully Finn can help her.

She walks around with her hand tucked into his as he finishes his shopping, and then he buys her the vegan ice cream she'd picked out and offers to come back to her house with her so she's not alone. Her protests are half-hearted at best because she really needs company right now, so twenty minutes later, she's sitting on her couch with her feet tucked up under her body sipping at the glass of water clutched tightly between her hands. They're not saying much, instead just watching the movie that Finn put on. She's trying to ignore that it's _The Hangover_, a movie that she's never seen, but Noah has vowed several times that he's going to get her to watch.

They don't get more than twenty minutes in though before she starts sobbing. She can barely control her breathing and every time she tries to talk only hiccups erupt from her mouth. She's trying to articulate what's happening to Finn, but she can't find the words. She's just so overwhelmed by everything. Her dad's sick, and she doesn't know what's going to happen with that, so her daddy's stressed and obviously she is too. It's almost summer and while she will have acting and voice lesson (of course) she doesn't have a job lined up yet, and her fathers already told her that they expect her to start earning her own spending money now that she's sixteen. And now, Noah apparently hates her and isn't even responding to her texts.

(Yes, she knows that he has the guys over, but she can't even count the number of times that they exchanged countless texts all night while he was watching baseball and playing video games with the guys. As long as it's not his turn with the controller physically in hand, he has no problem texting her, so she knows that he's ignoring her for some reason).

She has no idea what she did wrong with him, so she's freaking out—at least if she knew what she had done wrong there would be some hope of fixing it, but now he's just ignoring her, and she can't fix something that she never broke in the first place.

She doesn't know how it happens but an hour or so later, she finds herself on her back on the couch with Finn hovering over her, questions in his eyes as they flicker between her own brown orbs and her lips. She's so tired she barely can process what's happening, but she knows that he's about to kiss her and before she can say something to stop it, he does.

They've obviously done this many times before, but this time something feels different even if she can't put her finger on what exactly it is that is different.

She only lets Finn kiss her for a couple minutes before she comes to her senses and presses firmly against his shoulders, trying to shove him off her body. She doesn't have much success on her own, but he gets the hint and lifts his body off hers. He's blushing and looks immensely uncomfortable, and she can't really blame him. She's not really sure how they ended up like this, with his body pressing hers into her fathers' leather couch, but she's quite sure it's not nearly as heady a sensation as it was just a few months ago.  
When she finally musters up the courage to look at him, Finn's rubbing the back of his neck, which is reddening quickly. "Shit, I'm sorry, Rach," he says earnestly. "I wasn't planning on that happening, I swear. I don't even know how we ended up like that. The movie was just playing, and you were crying and then, I don't even know..."  
Without warning, she just bursts into tears, and in retrospect she'll feel bad for Finn because there's just no way he's doing too well following her roller coaster of emotions, but at the moment, it's all she can do to take deep enough breaths to keep herself from having a panic attack. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realizes that there's just no way that Finn can handle that, so without thinking about the events of the day, she just gasps "Noah."  
Finn's confused because Puck had texted him about the guys' night at his place, and Rachel and Puck have been attached at the hip so he's sure that she knows about Puck's plans for the night. "Rach, I don't think Puck can come over tonight," he tells her as gently as he can, and he can tell immediately that it is the wrong thing to say because her breathing just becomes more labored and she cries just a bit harder. "I know, I know, but I don't know why. He ignored my call earlier."  
Running a comforting hand over her spine but making sure not to get too close, Finn tries to think of the right words. "Maybe he just didn't have his phone on him."  
"No, it rang twice and went to voicemail, he definitely ignored it. Why does he hate me now, Finn? Why does everyone hate me?"  
"Oh, Rach," he can't help it-he gathers her into his chest. "I don't hate you, and neither does Puck. I'll text him, okay?"  
She nods, but tears are still pouring down her face, so he keeps one arm wrapped around her shoulders and awkwardly texts Puck one-handed. _Dude, Rach is crying about u ignoring her call and asking why u hate her. Get here asap._

Puck hears his phone chirp with a new text but he's in the middle of absolutely annihilating Mike in Madden '12. He's playing with the Eagles and Vick is just such a beast on this game that's pretty fucking hard to not be fuckin' awesome. So yeah, he's not exactly in the position to read the text that second. And when he beats Mike, John is up next and Mike turns on some music to dance while they're playing so Puck can't hear his phone when it chirps with another text and then rings as someone calls him. In fact, he can't hear anything until there's a persistent pounding on the door at the top of the stairs, and he runs up to see his mother standing there, looking angry. "Noah, I've been knocking forever. You need to turn down the music, but that's not even why I've been knocking. Finn is here, and he brought Rachel. She's crying—it looks like they really need you."

He rolls his eyes and clenches his fists to try to rein in his anger. What the fuck are Finn and Rachel doing together? He realizes that, rationally, he doesn't have much of a right to be upset since Rachel did call him earlier and he did ignore it, but seriously, after everything she's said and he's done—Finn? Really? Plus, he's super fuckin' pissed because he literally cannot turn a crying Rachel away, but it's only been two days, and he isn't even close to sorting out what he feels for her.

But yeah, whatever it is that he feels for her certainly isn't hatred or indifference, and since he's pretty sure he's totally in love with her, he knows that there's no way in hell that he's just brushing her aside, so he passes his controller to Matt, tells him not to totally blow the 28 point lead he's built up over Mike in Madden and then trudges up the stairs, slamming the basement door shut behind him.

Literally all the resolve he built up over the weekend after his conversation with Santana and that he managed to maintain while he avoided her rushes away the second he sees her standing next to Finn. She looks tiny (which she is, especially when she stands next to Finn) and there are tear tracks down her cheeks and her eyes are puffy and red-rimmed. She, frankly, looks like shit, but he still thinks she looks gorgeous. Her hair is down and mussed and she's wearing yoga pants and dark purple long-sleeved shirt.

And then her hair is flying and her face is getting all red and she's legitimately _screaming_ at him, but it's hysterical and he cannot even understand her because he can't focus because she's just so beautiful. So he just gathers her in his arms and holds on tight until she stops fighting it and relaxes in his embrace.

He thinks it means more than anything else he's thought about since Eliza's soccer game that this is the first time since he got that scary text from her that he's felt calm and relaxed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

When he gets her calmed down, he sits her down in the living room with a glass of water and an episode of _Friends_ playing on the TV. Then he goes down to his room and unceremoniously unplugs the TV and yanks the video game controllers out of his friends' hands and kicks their sorry asses out of his room and his house, making sure that they get right out of there and don't go anywhere near his living room. Once they're all gone, he thanks Finn and walks the fucker to his car and watches as he starts it and drives off, waiting until Finn's driven to the end of the street and taken a left to get out of the neighborhood before he turns and walks back into his house to find out what the fuck is going on with Rachel.

By the time he gets back to the living room where she's set up with an episode of _Friends_, all the work he did to get her calmed down and breathing semi-normally has totally gone to waste. She's breathing rapidly, short little breaths that he bets are doing little to replenish her supply of oxygen, and tears are glistening on her cheeks again. The glass of water he'd given her is empty, lying on its side next to her on his mom's couch. He picks up the glass and sets it right side up on the coffee table and then sits in its place, gathering her in his arms and running soothing hands up and down her spine.

It takes him a long time to get her calmed down enough to even speak in coherent sentences about her dad. Since she was nearly hysterical when he came back in from making sure Finn got the fuck away from his house, it makes sense that it takes half an hour and several glasses of water to get her in the state of mind to talk. And then all she does is talk about her dad and his condition, and he might not be Albert fuckin' Einstein but he's sure as shit not as dumb as Hudson, and he knows that while she loves her Dad as much as she loves anyone, she understands the situation and would not be this hysterical for this long about it, so he wants to know what the fuck else is going on.  
But as soon as he mentions that he has a tiny feeling that there might be at least a little bit of something else going on, she clams right up and shuts her mouth. "No, Noah, I assure you that I am just fine. Just quite worried about my father, that's all."  
He keeps looking at her evenly, and after they stay like that for a while, he stops looking her right in the eye and instead just gathers her in his arms and holds her because she's still Rachel Berry, and she still can't go that long without talking.  
Sure enough, it's only a few minutes of waiting before she starts talking. "Alright, Noah, your intuition was correct, and it actually serves as a perfect piece of evidence for what it is that's upsetting me."  
She trails off like she's waiting for a response from him, but all he offers is a simple lift of one of his brows. "I'm rather confused about what it is that's been going on between us because I was under the impression that we're rather good friends, and I don't think I could have been _that_ wrong about it because I'm extremely cautious about assuming things with my history. But then you completely avoided me today at school, and when I called earlier, you sent my call to voicemail, so I just don't understand what happened between Friday and today."  
"Nothing, Rach, I wasn't avoiding you. I was just busy."  
He's actually super impressed by the glare she sends him. It's _cold_, and her words are just as biting. "You were _busy_? Noah, you have never once been busy at school. Don't insult my intelligence with a lie that flimsy."  
"Jesus, Rachel, I wasn't trying to insult you. I was trying to not hurt your feelings."  
"Oh, how kind of you, sparing my feelings! But surely if that were the case then you would have considered that before you avoided me _and then_ sent my call to voicemail because you were playing video games. What changed since you skipped school and drove to Ann Arbor just to make sure I was okay?"  
"Nothing changed. I was just busy and the fuckin' world doesn't revolve around you."  
"Well, last week you acted just a little bit like yours did and then your attitude completely changed. I know I'm a lot to handle but I didn't know you could go from caring as much as you obviously did to _hating _me in less than a week."  
"What?" He pulls completely away, and it's just at that moment that he realizes how strange it is that they had that entire conversation while she was still wrapped in his arms. "Rachel, I didn't act like that because I hate you. I don't know what the fuck is going on with me, but I know I don't fuckin' hate you."  
The curious look on her face when she meets his eyes is so adorable he literally forgets what they were talking about for a couple of seconds. It's only her gentle "what do you mean?" that gets him back on track. "I seriously think about you like all the time, and I'm always worried about you. When you sent me that text, my heart pretty much stopped beating. I do things for you that I only do for my mom and my sister, and it's not because you ask or because I feel like I have to like I did with Quinn. It's because I want to."

Rachel's just looking at him with this blank expression on her face, and he kind of wonders if she's even taking any of it in. But then she answers that question by grabbing his face between her two tiny little hands and pulling him gently to her. Even if he wanted to resist, he's too damn confused and worked up by this point, and when she kisses him, it's like his entire mind goes blank and all there is in the world is her and her hands on his face and her lips interlocked with his and her tight little body that his hands are roaming all over.

And if this is what it's going to be like to date her, to kiss her, then he's pretty sure he'll adjust just fine because, shit, this has got to be the best feeling in the world.

So yeah, after that they're something, and he's not really sure what, but it's pretty awesome. They don't need labels, at least not yet, but he knows that he's not interested in anyone else, so even if they're not "boyfriend/girlfriend" or whatever, there is no one else for him. Now that he has her in whatever form that he does, he knows that she's all he's wanted for a long time, and it's just because he's emotionally stunted (her words; he'd use a different, less politically correct one) that it took him so long to figure out that he wanted her.

(And, really, he didn't even figure it out. Credit goes to Santana for that one.)

Honestly, it just relieves a lot of stress because now he knows that she's his and that she knows how much she means to him, even if they haven't defined anything yet. He knows that she's not at all the type of the girl to have something going on with more than one person even if that something is vague and undefined, and he's come to the realization that she means a hell of a lot to him.

It's been a couple of days since she kissed him on the couch in his living room, and things are pretty much the same between them. They haven't seen much of each other because she's been spending all of her spare time at the hospital with her dads and he's been taking care of Eliza while his mom works. After she kissed him on Monday night though, things just kind of worked themselves out and they spent the rest of the night hanging out and watching TV until she started to fall asleep on his couch and he drove her home and half-carried her upstairs and into her bed. After he helped her get changed (averting his eyes at the appropriate moments—as hard as it was), he tucked her into bed and pushed the hair back from her face, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and then leaving her falling quickly asleep.

At the bottom of the stairs he had run into Leroy, who had just been standing looking at a picture of the family outside Fenway Park in Boston. He could tell it had been taken several years previously as Rachel looked much younger in the picture than she does now, with her hair in adorable pigtails and her wide smile revealing her braces. Before he could say something to announce his presence, Leroy spoke. "This was probably the best family trip we've ever had. Hiram and I have an apartment in downtown Boston—the city is extremely important to us, and Hiram's parents live on Cape Cod. But this was the summer between seventh and eighth grade for Rachel, and we were able to spend the entire summer in Boston, just the three of us. I think it's how became so close as a family. Hiram and Rachel made several trips to New York that summer which was a big reason that she became so set on being on Broadway. That's always been something she's shared with Hiram. I'm just afraid that if something happens she's not going to have her motivation anymore. I'm afraid that if Hiram's not the same it will _ruin_ the Rachel that she's become."

Puck had been surprised to feel the backs of his eyes prickling. He's not a crier and this situation should have made him feel exceptionally uncomfortable, but instead he just felt terrified of the prospect of Rachel changing. It was at least partially selfish. He was just getting an opportunity with her; he wanted her exactly the way it was. But it would also just be a flat out shame if the world did not get Rachel Berry exactly as she is now because he knows that she was born for the stage and it wouldn't be right if she didn't get to share that with as many people as possible.

A few days later he's still thinking about that conversation with Leroy, still pretty fucking scared that she won't recover if something happens to Hiram. He knows her pretty well by this point and that thought hadn't even crossed his mind but now that Leroy has voiced his fear, he can't get it out of his head because obviously her fathers, who totally think the sun shines out of her ass, know her better than anyone in the world.

But she's also seemed pretty much like the real Rachel Berry. She's still totally crazy about color coding her notes and doing all her homework like the second it's assigned. And yesterday she didn't talk to him for an hour _while she was at his house _because he made fun of her for doing her math homework on scrap paper and then copying it over a second time to make it all neat and organized once the problems were all solved. So yeah, that's a pretty good sign that nothing's changed yet.

Then again, she hasn't been singing under her breath or generally all the time like she usually does, so that's a little concerning, even if he's not sure if that's because she's just a little bit more distracted than usual, a little more down than usual or actually changing, so he makes it his mission after school on Thursday to get her to sing while she's tidying her room.

He's lying on her bed, propped up on this ridiculously comfortable memory foam pillow she has that he's sure she convinced her dads she needed to take optimal care of her vocal cords or some shit, and he's watching her fold her laundry and re-organize her closet (in rainbow order). They're not really talking; he's just enjoying the view. She's wearing these Lycra yoga pants and a tight, red racer-back workout top, and the whole ensemble shows off her ridiculous body like crazy. So yeah, it's not really a big deal to just lie around in silence and look at her, and now that they're _something_ he can without it being weird. He's never been shy about expressing how gorgeous he thinks she is, but now his praise doesn't make her uncomfortable. Instead she just flushes a little pink and gives him this little grateful (and beautiful) smile as she says "thank you." It's pretty much the cutest thing ever, so he compliments her every chance he gets just to see her reaction.

He starts singing "Sweet Caroline" softly as she's tucking her socks into a drawer in some ridiculous order that doesn't make any sense to anyone else but her. He runs through it one full time before she even notices, but he was singing super softly, so he starts in again, this time with James Taylor's "Something in the Way She Moves." It's during the second chorus, and it's so quiet that he barely hears it, but it's something, and it's only when she starts singing that he realizes how long it's been since he heard her voice, which makes him realize how valid her daddy's fear could actually be. It's pretty much like the worst feeling ever because Rachel Berry was meant for New York, so he decides that it's going to be his responsibility to keep her as cheerful as possible.

It's the beginning of May, so the weather's starting to get pretty summery, and he decides that he's had enough of sitting around. Ever since he was a little kid he's craved the outdoors, and he's always preferred doing anything outside to whatever it is he can do inside (except sex; he'd rather be inside and having sex than outside and not—but, outside sex is the best). He knows he's not having sex with Rachel today (or anytime soon), though, but he really wants to go outside, just to the little pond in the woods at the park or something.

He gets off the bed and crosses the room to kneel behind Rachel, so he can comfortably rub her shoulders a little bit. "Whaddya say we have a picnic?"

She turns around slowly, shuffling on her knees, to wrap her arms around his waist and lay her head on his chest. "That sounds lovely, Noah. Where should we go?"

Smiling, he pulls back and runs his hand over her cheek and down her hair. "I'll take care of that. Will you get whatever vegan food you want to eat? I'll head to the grocery store for other essentials."

When she nods her agreement, they pull apart and go their separate ways to get everything together, agreeing that Puck will be back to pick her up in 45 minutes. She spends the time puttering around the kitchen and putting together a salad and a fruit bowl, as well as grabbing a bag of sunflower seeds, before she heads back up to her room to continue her organizing while she waits for Noah.

Meanwhile, he heads to the grocery store to pick up a sandwich for himself as well as some essentials for making s'mores. There's a fire pit by the pond where he's going to take them, and he's pretty sure that she's never experienced any sort of camping traditions, so this is the beginning of a (very) recently hatched plan to ease her into sharing his love of the outdoors, so that they can camp and swim and boat together (he's not holding his breath on convincing her to fish with him).

As he's driving back to her house, he realizes that this is going to be their first date-type activity since they kissed, and even though they definitely have not assigned any labels, this is totally a date. Which means he has to do a little bit more than drive her to the park and make her s'mores to live up to any girl's expectations. He's a little short on ideas, and since he doesn't really want to make her wait much longer, he keeps driving toward her house, wondering if he's going to have to just beg her to understand that he'll do better than this spur of the moment _thing_ in the future.

But then, right before he's about to turn onto her street, he passes Mrs. Burke's house, and a bolt of inspiration hits him. He pulls his car to a stop outside her house and hops from it strolling briskly up the front steps and pushing the doorbell firmly. Mrs. Burke is this little old lady who lives alone in this big house with a pool and an expansive garden out back. He had worked for her for several summers, both cleaning her pool and maintaining her garden. She had always told him that if he ever needed flowers out of her garden for anything then he was more than welcome to them. He just hoped that offer still stood even though it was early May so her own flowers were not blooming yet—she always had beautiful arrangements throughout her house.

When she answers the door, he wonders first and foremost if he made a tactical mistake because she immediately begins talking his ear off, and he has to use the word girlfriend, just to get her to stop talking for like two seconds (she's like Rachel that way).

"Mrs. Burke, I'm sorry to just drop in like this, but I did actually have a quick question for you."

"Of course, dear, what is it?"

"I'm on my way over to my girlfriend's house—she lives around the corner on Masters—to take her to the pond for a picnic, but I realized that I don't have flowers or anything, and she's a vegan so she's even bringing her own food. Do you have some flowers I could give her?"

Before he's done speaking, Mrs. Burke is shaking her head teasingly with a smile on her face. "Anything for you, Noah. Now, I know a lot of people over on Masters. Who is your girlfriend?"

"Rachel Berry. She's Hiram and Leroy's daughter."

"Hmm, I'm not sure that I know them. I know who she is, of course, Lima's never seen talent like that."

He smiles. "No, I'm sure it hasn't. Rachel's pretty much the best thing about this town."

Mrs. Burke smiles back at him and hands him a bouquet of orange lilies. "It sounds like you appreciate her. Make sure she always knows that and you kids will be just fine."

"Thank you, Mrs. Burke," he leans down to kiss her cheek. "Let me know what I can do to pay you back."

"Oh, nonsense, Noah, that's not necessary. Just bring this girl over for tea sometime so that I can make sure she's worthy of your love."

"I will; I promise." Puck sends her one last smile and lets himself out of the house. Mrs. Burke has been like a second grandmother to him for the past five or so years, and she knows him almost as well as his biological grandmother does, so he had already been planning on Rachel meeting her.

It's not until he's in his truck, setting the flowers carefully on the passenger seat that Mrs. Burke's final words registered.

_Bring this girl over for tea sometime so that I can make sure she's worthy of your love._

He had no idea that he was that fucking transparent. Can Rachel see it? Does she know that he's already ass over feet for her? If she can tell, is it gonna make her freak out and bail?

That's pretty much the worst thought ever because he's already terrified that she's going to wake up one morning (probably soon, before he even gets to really date her) and realize that she's way too good for him, that she's just slumming it with a Lima Loser like him and dump his ass so fast it'll make his head spin. And that's just really gonna suck, so he's not really looking to do anything to freak her out and expedite the process. Because honestly? He's been (at least subconsciously) waiting a long time for an opportunity to really be with her, and he wants at least a chance to prove that even though he's probably not destined for much more than a job at Burt's tire shop or at the mechanics uptown or maybe with the pool installation company, he can be good for her. He can love her and listen to her and look out for her better than anyone else in this stupid town, and even if he's not good enough for her in the long run, he can be good enough for her for as long as she stays in this town.

(And yeah, he'd never even _ask_ her to stay for a second longer than she has to).

Basically though, he really hopes that the fact that everyone can tell how he feels about her isn't going to fuck this thing they've got up too fast. But when he pulls up in front of her house and she bounds down the lawn carrying a wicker picnic basket and clambers into his truck, she turns his head and kisses him on the lips and her eyes are all soft and shiny and totally beautiful. He can tell just from her expressive eyes that she's not at all freaked out and is totally comfortable, so he just kisses her again right after she's pulled away. It's long and deep and her eyes are totally dazed when they break apart, and he loves being the one that put that look on her face. Then he hands her the lilies, and she looks at him like he's her entire world.

And he totally loves being the guy that puts that look on her face _even more._

They've just finished eating when the sun starts to set, and he thinks that Jew-God must be smiling down on him because he didn't even plan it, but he and Rachel set up so they're looking west across the pond. It ends up pretty much being as romantic as it gets, and she's curled up in his arms and they just kind of sit there soaking it all in because the situation with her dad is pretty touch and go, so they don't really know if they're going to get any time together again anytime soon, never mind peaceful time.

And he's glad that he savored that moment because no more than fifteen minutes later, he's helping her throw everything together and run back to the car because her daddy calls to tell them that they've decided to perform a transplant on her dad and because his need is critical the transplant could happen at any moment with very little prior notice.

When they get to Lima General Hospital, he holds her hand as they walk through the parking lot and into the hospital and even though she doesn't say anything, he can tell how grateful she is just by how tightly she squeezes. He doesn't let go until the doctor comes into the room and tells Leroy, Hiram and Rachel that he can fill the family in on what's going on, while shooting a pointed look at Puck as he emphasizes the word "family."

It's obvious that the doctor's not going to talk as long as he's in the room, so he gently pulls his hand from Rachel's and, because he doesn't think he should cause her dad any further stress, just smiles softly and winks at her instead of pulling her into his arms like he'd really like to. But if there's anything he's learned about Rachel it's that she gets him, and she understands his motivations for most things, so he doesn't have to worry about it.

He lumbers slowly down to the waiting room and then lowers his frame into a chair. It's okay for a couple minutes but then he gets bored and his imagination gets away from him, and he starts freaking out a little bit about Hiram's condition, which in turn freaks him out about how serious he and Rachel are already because _hello, he's freaking out about his girlfriend's dad_. Usually he just tries to stay as far away from dads as possible. He doesn't get much further with that train of thought though because someone sits down next to him and settles her leg right up against his.

He picks up a random magazine and pretends to be flipping through it, while really eyeing the person next to him carefully. He knows this game, and he's played it a few times before since he's pretty much the hottest thing in Lima. He can already tell exactly how she wants it go even though she's obviously not going to get her wish because he's (finally) very much attached, but he's not going to shoot her down before she even tries and look like an arrogant, conceited asshole either.

But yeah, it's only a couple more minutes before she shifts so that her thigh is pretty much flush against his even with the semi-divided waiting room chairs, and she coughs a couple times. He spares her a glance because he knows that's what she's going for, and she jumps at the opening when they make eye contact.

"What has you sitting out here in the waiting room, honey?"

She's fake blonde, big-breasted and clearly well into her thirties. Basically, she's exactly what he would have gone for before Quinn and Beth and Rachel, but now he honestly doesn't even see the appeal. "I'm waiting for my girlfriend. Her dad is sick."

"Girlfriend? Honey, if you're not interested just say so, but I know who you are and I'm sure you don't have a girlfriend."

He looks over and makes eye contact again. "Look, I do have a girlfriend, and I am waiting for her. Quite honestly, even if I didn't I'm not really into the same things I used to be so I probably wouldn't be interested." He stands up and walks away, striding down the hallway toward Rachel's dads room. Just as he rounds the last corner before the room, he sees the doctor come out, Rachel hot on his heels. As soon as she sees him, she darts into his arms, wrapping herself tightly around him and clutching the back of his t-shirt in her fists. And as he runs a soothing hand up and down her spine, he realizes that he doesn't even regret shooting down the woman in the waiting room because standing here with his arms wrapped around Rachel beats a dirty hook-up with a woman too old for him and too old to be a slut any day.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Not much really changes when they start dating other than when she looks super-hot he can just grab her and kiss the life out of her like he usually has the urge to do anyway and when she looks so beautiful it makes his chest hurt he can tell her and ease the pain without things being weird between them. So there's that. But otherwise, they were already best friends and their non-sexual relationship just gets stronger (as much of a pussy as he is for thinking that).

But yeah, since Quinn and Beth his sexual escapades have been pretty much at a minimum, so he's not really worried about that aspect of his relationship with Rachel, and other than that it's pretty much just like they're best friends (which they already were), and honestly, since he's not a total dickhead, he's not pushing for a relationship talk since her dad could be having a heart transplant literally any day.

Now that they're a _something_ she's making sure to keep him updated on her dad's condition and how she's handling it all, and he's been at the hospital every day to bring her something from her favorite vegan place and a grape slushie. She's stressed, he can tell, and she's spending all her free time at the hospital other than the necessary time at school, and honestly, her smile every time he hands the food and drink to her is all the payment he needs. Seriously, eleven bucks is nothing when he gets to be on the receiving end of that smile.

One Tuesday, about a week after he and Rachel had their picnic and she had found out for sure that her dad needed a heart transplant, he walked into the hospital with her dinner and a grape slushie to find the door of her dad's room closed. Through the little rectangular glass window, he can see three doctors, white coats and all, standing around Hiram's bed. Leroy is positioned at Hiram's side, holding one of his hands while Rachel watches the doctors carefully. He backs away before they can see him and goes to sit in the waiting room. He doesn't want Rachel to feel like she's obligated to come see him so he waits about five minutes then sends her a text telling her he's in the waiting room whenever she's free before spending the next 10 or 15 minutes playing Tetris on his phone until he feels her small hand rest on his left shoulder blade.

When he looks up at her, her eyes are wide and scared, and he can tell that she's stressed and has obviously received some unwelcome news. He hands her the take-out box and the big plastic cup and tugs her wrist so she's sitting in the crappy plastic chair next to his. Once she's settled, he snakes his hand around the back of her chair and squeezes her shoulder gently. "What's up?"

"They found a donor for Dad. He's going into surgery in a couple of hours."

He squeezes her shoulders tightly. "Well, that's a good thing, baby, your dad's been sick for a long time without knowing it."

She turns big, soft, scared eyes on him. "I know it's a good thing, but it's a dangerous procedure. The doctors were just telling us about it, and I'm scared. He's my dad, Noah."

His heart clenches because he can hear the pain in her voice, and even though it's an extremely selfish thought, he thinks in that moment about how he doesn't really know what she's feeling. He doesn't have a dad. But he does know how much she loves her father and how much she cares about the people around her. He watches as she opens the take out container and takes a bite of the vegan stir fry he brought before he speaks.

"I know it's scary, but your dad needs this new heart to be healthy. It's going to be a long road, a long process, but it's going to make him better. It gets him so much more time, Rach."

She doesn't say anything back, just pushes some rice around the Styrofoam container. She takes a couple small bites, then closes it again and sets it on the floor before she curls her feet up under her and lays her head on his shoulder. After a few more seconds she asks in this really small, unsure voice that just makes him super sad "will you stay with me while he's in surgery?"

"Rachel. Of course I will." He presses a kiss to her forehead and wraps an arm tightly around her and rubs her arm a few times. "I'm here for you, okay?"

She nods, the top of her head bumping softly against his jaw and whispers "thanks, Noah."

It's a long procedure, and Rachel can't seem to keep still as it stretches into its last legs. She's antsy, fidgeting and moving around constantly, until he finally hoists himself to his feet and grabs her hand, taking her on a long walk through the hospital. His mom has worked here his entire life, so he grew up knowing the place like the back of his hand. He doesn't have to think about where he's going or making sure that they don't get lost, and without him really noticing they end up in the maternity wing, looking through the glass window at all the newborn babies.

She's clinging to his hand, and he's holding back just as tightly, trying to prevent his mind from wandering to where it always does when he sees a baby because right now, while his girlfriend's father is in the last stages of a heart transplant, is a terrible time to think about the little girl he was forced to give up. But since Rachel is totally amazing and absolutely the most considerate person he knows, she's pretty much reading his mind. "Do you still think about her a lot?"

There's no point in pretending that he doesn't know what this conversation is about, plus he usually doesn't actually mind talking to Rachel about stuff like this. "Pretty much every time my mind wanders."

"What do you think about?"  
He pauses. There are so many things that he wishes he knew about Beth, even just about her first few months of life. "What she looks like, whether she sleeps through the night, whether she cries a lot, whether she has Quinn's or my eyes. I just want to know her so badly."

Rachel wraps her tiny little arms around his waist. "I'm so sorry, Noah. I wish there was something I could do."

Running a hand over her hair, he inhales deeply, thinking about the exact wording of his next statement. "You do so much. When I'm with you, all I can think about is you—in the best possible way. Being around you makes everything that's happened so much easier. Thinking about you makes everything better. I wish that my connection with Beth didn't mean that you have to think about Shelby."

"Thinking about Shelby isn't hard for me anymore. Between you and what's happened with my dad, I've realized that I don't need Shelby in my life." She stops talking and looks up at him, but he's staring resolutely at the babies in front of him, an unreadable expression on his face. "My dad's heart attack made me realize that I should appreciate the two wonderful parents that I am lucky enough to have. And you, Noah, you've made me realize that I don't need Shelby to love me. There are people who choose to be in my life who don't have any sort of obligation or biological connection to me. Time and again, you've been in my life when I've needed you, regardless of any outside factors. You have no idea how much I appreciate that."

By the time she finishes talking he's looking at her intensely, his eyes, a vibrant shade of green, boring into hers. They look at each other for several seconds before he presses an emotional kiss to her lips and holds her tightly against his body for just a moment. When he pulls back, he tells her quietly, "I appreciate you too, Rach. Having you in my life has made it so much better, and I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure that I can make your life improve as much as mine has."

It's only about twenty minutes after they get back to the waiting room that the surgeon who had been performing Hiram's operation emerges from the door marked "Authorized Personnel Only." Puck feels Rachel's grip on his hand immediately tighten, and when he looks up, he knows why. It's impossible to tell from the doctor's carefully schooled expression how the procedure went. His mom watches _Grey's Anatomy _religiously, so he's caught an episode here or there, and he's always thought that they dramatized that moment when the doctor walks into the waiting room after a dangerous procedure and no one can tell how it went, but he literally feels like Preston fuckin' Burke is walkin' at him right now, that's how fast his heart is pounding. He definitely can't read the expression on the guy's face, but he's also definitely petrified.

He can hear Rachel taking little, shallow breaths and she's squeezing the life out of his hand, but he's squeezing back just as tightly, just so that she has a physical reminder that he's there and that he cares. When the doctor stops in front of him, Noah can literally feel Rachel's entire body tense and freeze as she stops breathing. Fortunately the doctor doesn't beat around the bush. "Mr. Berry, Rachel, I'm happy to report that the surgery went as well as we could have hoped. Hiram came off bypass flawlessly and the new heart took well." He pauses and scrubs a hand over his face and Noah can feel Rachel relaxing beside him, but even as she pulls away to hug Leroy, she keeps her right hand firmly wrapped in his.

He can't explain how good it makes him feel that she trusts him and that his presence around her makes things easier for her. He thinks every time she says something to that effect his chest literally physically puffs out in pride because she's _Rachel Berry_ and most of the time it seems like she doesn't need anyone, and she's certainly much better than him in pretty much every aspect of life so he's not really sure what he really gives her, but he's just gonna keep doing what he's been doing because she claims it's helping her out and that's what he's really going for anyway.

After the doctor explains everything to Leroy and Rachel, he leads Leroy back to recovery so that he can be with Hiram when he wakes up. Rachel wants to give her dads a few minutes alone so she offers to walk him out to his truck. He's been so good about all of this, devoting all of his spare time to being with her and helping her and supporting her, and she's sure that he would like nothing more than to go back to his house and play about twelve hours of one of his violent video games with Mike or Matt, even if he won't admit it.

When they get to his truck, he pulls her into his arms and rubs a hand up and down her spine, and even when she tries to pull away, he's reluctant to let go and keeps his arms locked loosely around her waist. "You sure you're good, Rach? I can stay; I don't have plans or anything."

"I promise I'm fine. You've been amazing, and it's really late. I'm sure your mom wants you getting home. My dad's fine and my daddy's here, so there's really no reason why you need to stay with me any longer."

He leans down and presses a kiss to her hairline before he lets go of her completely. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then. Try to get some sleep, baby." His eyes are soft as he stares earnestly down at her. "Will you call me when you have some free time?"

Smiling and wrapping her arms around her body against the middle of the night chill, she ducks her head and nods. "Maybe we can go out tomorrow night?"

"Baby, you know I'd love that. Just let me know if you're feeling up to it."

Rachel shakes her head before the words are even completely out of his mouth. "It would be perfect, Noah, the perfect thing to take my mind off of everything."

"Well, then," he smirks at her, as he walks backwards around the front of his truck, "it's a date."

He gets home around one in the morning and immediately falls back on his bed, already brainstorming where he's going to take Rachel for their date the next night. It has to be perfect because he just wants to get her mind off her dad for a couple of hours, but the closest truly vegan restaurant is too far away—in Cincinnati. And while he would love to take her to Cincinnati, he knows she wouldn't want to be far from the hospital. But then he thinks that any guy that knows anything about her would take her to a vegan restaurant (he knows that Jesse did), so he needs to do better than that. He does pride himself on knowing her better than any of the guys she's ever dated and he'd like nothing more than to prove that to her tomorrow night (well that's a lie 'cause he can think of a _couple_ things but that's so not the point.

So yeah, he brainstorms until two but doesn't really come up with anything good so he gives up and tries to go to sleep. He ends up tossing and turning before he finally drifts off at three in the morning, slipping into a restless sleep. When his alarm goes off at seven, he's not even sure that he actually ever fell asleep because his head is still so full of restaurants and movie titles and other romantic, non-cliché date ideas.

He's so distracted by planning the perfect date that he doesn't even notice her leaning against his locker when he gets there. Spinning the combination and swinging the door open, he's weighing the pros and cons of taking her to the drive-in (pro: super romantic, con: super cliché) and he would have actually smacked her with the door if she hadn't had the presence of mind to catch it.

When she speaks, it's with a teasing lilt to her voice. "Good morning, Noah. I trust you didn't see me here?" He jumps about a foot, his heart racing when he looks over to her.

"Christ, Berry, way to scare the fuckin' shit out of me!"

She lets out this adorable little giggle and looks up at him through her eyelashes. "I didn't mean to scare you. I figured that if I stood next to your locker you'd probably notice me. I guess not." She giggles again, and he can't help the way that his hand reaches toward her and tucks a strand of her hair delicately behind her ear. His fingertips trail down the side of her neck and over her shoulder before he draws his hand back to his own body.

"Nah, I was just off in my own world. We still on for tonight?"

"Of course. I wanted to know what we were doing so I could properly dress for the occasion."

Without even realizing he's doing it, he smiles down at her. "I'll text you later to tell you what to wear. It's a surprise though so dress in layers. I gotta go; I have a meeting with Beiste before first period. Gonna get my ass chewed out for missing practice yesterday." His lips tilt up in yet another smile and before she knows what he's doing, he leans down, kisses her gently on the lips and then is upright again with his back turned, swaggering down the hall.

As he rounds the corner, she can't help the way her hand drifts toward her face and her fingertips rest lightly on her lips. He was so gentle and so sweet and so obviously caring in the way he kissed her just then that, if she somehow still doubted his true feelings after the way he had acted in the past several weeks, that one single action, that one gesture would have cleared up his feelings for a very, very long time. Even knowing all she knows about him and about how strongly he feels for her, that tiny, little kiss has her floating on cloud nine all morning.

By the time lunch rolls around, she's been brought back to reality a bit by her courses, but only a little bit. Still, every time she thinks of Noah, she can't help but get a goofy little grin on her face as her heart skips a beat. It can't be good to be having her heart skipping beats every time she thinks of her boyfriend, but she can't really help it. He's been so kind and perfect and unlike that other boy he's never once been ashamed of her, even before they were dating. He's always been proud to be seen with her, to be her friend and now to be her boyfriend. Sometimes she wonders if that's just a peek into the future, into the kind of man he will one day be (the kind of man that he is well on his way to becoming).

At lunchtime when she walks into the cafeteria, she sees the entire Glee club, other than Noah, sitting together, broken off into small side conversations, and she thinks about going to sit with them, but just the thought of answering all their (fake) questions and talking about her dad with people who are only really pretending to care exhausts her, so she turns and leaves, taking her salad to the back of the library.

To say she's surprised when she hears footsteps walking through the stacks and toward her is an understatement. She's done her research, and she knows that since this back corner shares a wall with the librarians' break room, it's not the one that horny students use to scratch an itch (that's the opposite corner) so no one literally _ever_ comes back here. And it's lunch, so obviously there's no one in here studying, so she cannot imagine what someone is doing coming back to her corner of the library. And it really is her corner. This is where she always does her homework or eats her lunch when she knows she can't handle sitting in the cafeteria with the Glee kids. She knows that no one ever comes back to this spot, and she's pretty sure that no one knows that she hangs out here pretty regularly.

So yeah, she was surprised when she heard footsteps, but she is so certain she's dreaming when Santana Lopez comes into sight that she actually, literally pinches herself. And then she checks Santana's hand for a slushie or anything else that might be used to vandalize her person. By the time she has assured herself that Santana is quite certainly empty-handed (in fact, she doesn't even have a backpack, she's just striding purposefully toward Rachel in her Cheerios uniform with a flimsy white zip-up to protect against the cool chill of the library), the other girl is collapsing dramatically into a chair across from her and slamming Rachel's novel (_The Kite Runner_) shut as if she didn't already have Rachel's full attention just out of pure curiosity.

"Hello, Santana. Can I help you?" She tries to sound pleasant but instead she's pretty sure her voice comes out strained and somewhat hostile. Santana's response confirms it.

"Chill, Berry, I come in peace. I'm wavin' a white fuckin' flag or whatever."

Immediately, Rachel is reminded that this girl is Noah's best friend, so she thinks that the two must have something in common. Instead of feeling so intimidated by Santana's presence, maybe she should try to just be the person she _truly_ is, the one Noah sees and likes and maybe Santana will stop being so cruel. After all, she cannot see a way her relationship with Noah will ever work if she can't stop being so damn intimidated by his best friend—although she knows he's far more understanding than people give him credit for and he would certainly understand if she never wanted to talk to or see Santana outside of school; he just probably wouldn't like it much.

"I apologize. I'm just failing to understand what might bring you here—and how you even knew I was here."

"Jesus. You're talking like your brain is a damn thesaurus. I promise I'm not gonna dump shit on you or, like, make you admit something really embarrassing and then send a video around to the whole school and ruin your Broadway career or anything like that. I just want to talk to you."

Rachel just stares skeptically across the little table. Excuse her if she's had it with trusting these so-called teammates in the Glee club, especially this one who started such flattering nicknames as "man-hands" and "RuPaul."

Rolling her eyes, Santana reaches across the table, right pinky finger extended. "Pinky promise, I won't tell anyone about this conversation, whatever we end up talking about."

Rachel's flushing now. She obviously knows what a pinky promise is, seeing as she keeps extremely up-to-date with pop culture and has seen _many_ teen movies, but she's never ever participated in one before because before Noah she's never really had any close friends. Santana must read her expression because her eyes soften and she gives Rachel this sad, little smile. "Come on, Berry, it's, like, sacred, okay?"

Nodding, Rachel links her pinky through Santana's, and following the other girl's lead, she leans down and seals it with a kiss on her own hand. Then they both pull their hands back to their sides of the table and Rachel waits for Santana to start talking.

"Alright, I wanna talk to you about Puck, okay?" Rachel really doesn't have anything else to say, so she nods, heart racing. "Look, we pretty much keep it on the d.l., but he's really my boy okay? I know a lot of people don't think that we are friends because we're at each other's throats, like, all the time, but I swear, he's my best friend, okay?"

Rachel nods again, slowly this time. "Okay." Santana seems to be a on a roll, and Rachel doesn't want to interrupt her by explaining that she really does know a lot about Noah, including about his complicated relationship with the beautiful Latina girl across from her.

"Alright, so look, I know we haven't always gotten along or whatever." Rachel tries, but she actually _cannot_ help the scoff that she lets out at that statement. Santana looks up from where she had been examining the laminate of the table between them, a slightly impressed look in her eyes and a wry smirk on her lips. She reminds Rachel _so much_ of Noah in that moment that Rachel actually thinks that he might somehow be supernaturally inhabiting Santana's body. "Okay, Berry, so I've pretty much been a huge bitch to you since you first stole Puck's attention at our third grade talent show. Whatever, not the point." She stops talking then and Rachel, excusing her own language, wonders _what the fuck is going on._

"Santana, if I may ask? What is your point?"

"Fuck, Berry, keep your panties on, I'm getting there!" She pauses for a second and then looks across the table at Rachel. "Where was I?'

"Third grade, when I supposedly first caught Noah's attention?"

"Oh, right. Well, fuck, Berry, that's obviously why I never liked you. Puckerman has been my best friend for years and years, and you were the first girl he ever looked at other than me."

Rachel is flat out confused. "You cannot possibly hate every girl that Noah has ever shown interest in or slept with. That would be exhausting, not to mention impractical."

"Of course I don't hate every girl that Puck's ever flirted with. You're missing the fucking point, Berry."

"Clearly, Santana, I'm incapable of comprehending said point, so if you would kindly elaborate for me, that would be greatly appreciated."

"The point is, I didn't give a fuck who Puck fucks—I know if it's just sex he'll always come back to me. But I do care who Noah has the potential to fall in love with because I've always been the most important person in his life."

Now that she understands, Rachel's heart hurts for the girl sitting across the little library table from her. She knows how it feels to be afraid of losing someone important to you; ever since she and Noah became so close she's been petrified of losing him to someone else—someone cooler, taller, prettier, more talented (okay, maybe not that one), more sexually experienced than her. "I'm not trying to replace you in Noah's life, I promise. I don't want to push you out of his life. Ideally, I'd like to be friends so Noah feels comfortable being with both of us at the same time."

"I know you're not going to push me out, but I've only been the only person other than Eliza and Mrs. Puckerman that Puck's ever loved. I know him, so I know you're gonna change that, and even if it's selfish that's a little scary to me."

"I get it. But I know you'll always be important to Noah."

Santana smiles humorlessly. "I'll never be as important as you. For someone who loves to be the center of attention—I'm sure you understand—it's a hard pill to swallow. But this kinda brings me to the other point, the one that's not about me. If you break Puck's heart, I will kill you."

She says the words unblinkingly and extremely firmly, and Rachel has no doubt that she means them fully. Santana has always had a reputation for being extremely protective of the things and people that she loves, and it's become quite obvious that she loves Noah as much as she loves anything in this world.

"Point taken," Rachel responds seriously, hoping that her facial expression and tone convey just how solemnly she swears to try to never hurt Noah.

"No, seriously, Berry, you may not realize it yet, but Puck has feelings. Like, he really has feelings and he's got a heart and he can be hurt too. He just does a hell of a job hiding it. But he's so ass over face for you that you have the potential to hurt him a lot more than anyone else could. Be _careful_ with his heart, Berry, because it's really fragilely repaired by now."

"Trust me, Santana, I know. I'm trying to make it better not worse. And if you're worried about him being the only vulnerable one in this relationship, well, he's had my heart for a long time, okay?"

Santana smiles and nods and just says "okay" before she stands up and walks back the way she came without another word.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

While she's sure that the odd little conversation she had with Santana in the library helped Noah feel much more secure in their relationship, it only served to totally undermine her own security. Now pretty much all she can think about all the time is how close Noah and Santana are and how many memories they've shared and how important that friendship is to him. And beyond that mostly all she can think about is how much Santana has always despised her, how insecure she apparently makes Santana feel and what would happen if Santana decided she wanted Rachel out of Puck's life?

It's the last scenario that has Rachel literally staying up all night after their conversation. Logically, she can see how much Noah cares about her, so she obviously doesn't want to ask him about her fear because that would be needy and overbearing and generally annoying, but emotionally, she cannot shake the picture of Santana Lopez looking so kind and soft and gentle as she discussed just how much Puck had been hurt in the past.

She _knows_ she's being ridiculous but whenever her mind wanders she cannot stop obsessing over it. He took her on this beautiful, well-thought out date earlier tonight, right after she'd had that conversation in the library with Santana. It had been perfect and intimate and she hadn't thought about Santana once, but ever since that night her mind has continued to drift back to this afternoon in the library.

This date, though. It had seriously been perfect. He'd taken her to this tiny little Italian place, and it just showed how well he knew her. Instead of driving her miles and miles to a vegan restaurant in Cincinnati where she'd be far away from her dad on the off chance that something happened, and instead of taking her to McKinley's go-to date destination (Breadstix), they'd gone to Lucia's, an Italian bistro in the next town over, where their date wouldn't be interrupted by one of their less than understanding classmates but where she could still get home quickly, if need be. They'd been shown to a tiny little table in the back corner of the restaurant, dimly lit by candles. Noah had pulled out her chair for her and then sat on the side perpendicular to her, leaning forward on the table so they were merely inches apart and settling his foot against hers under the table. They'd lingered over their meal, and he'd insisted on salads, entrees and desserts for both of them and then coffee (tea for her) to finish it off. When they finally left the restaurant, they'd spent over three hours, tucked away in that corner conversing in hushed tones and whispered flirtations, and she'd never felt quite so cared for or loved.

After dinner, he'd driven her back through Lima and out to a deserted field which she knew was often used as a prime make-out spot for many of McKinley's couples. But instead of stopping in the woods-surrounded clearing where she always overheard girls telling their friends on Monday mornings in the bathroom about getting to third base or losing their virginity to their boyfriends, he kept driving down a dark gravel road until they pulled into a wide open field where they could see the stars twinkling far above them.

He'd laid down a thick blanket in the bed of her truck, lifted her up like a true gentleman and then settled across from her with his guitar across his lap, quietly strumming some old James Taylor classics, like she'd confessed she loved after that afternoon he'd sung for her at the nursing home. His rendition of "Fire and Rain" had so much emotion that it had literally brought tears to her eyes, and he'd had to stop halfway through to make sure she was okay. But the date had been beautiful and perfect and romantic and not once, through the whole night, had she thought of anything other than how much Noah obviously cared for her and how much potential their relationship had. And yet, the moment she'd woken up the next day her insecurities had reared their ugly head again.

She's lying in her bed, having resolved to laze around all day, avoiding her boyfriend when her phone chirps. Rolling over and grabbing it off her nightstand, she sees that the display says _Noah Text Message_ and she reluctantly unlocks the screen and types in her passcode, and the conversation between her and her boyfriend pops up.

_Good morning baby wanna go down to the lake?_

Damn him! She's been begging him to go to the lake with her since the temperature broke fifty degrees in March. It's like he knows that she's planning on avoiding him today. He knows that her fathers have already left for their spring weekend at a charming little bed and breakfast in Niagara Falls, so she can't fake plans with them and there's no way that he'd believe that she had plans with anyone else because he still is, for all intents and purposes, her only real friend.

Setting her phone back on her bedside table, she rolls over, pulls the covers back over her head and tries to ignore the world. Unfortunately her boyfriend is nothing if not persistent and her phone beeps again a couple minutes later. _Come on baby it's so nice out and I already put the rowboat in my truck._

She can't deny him that. For the past couple days, the weather report has been calling for 70 degree weather this weekend, and the sun is streaming into her room. Rolling her eyes, she texts him back _give me an hour_ devoid of all the smiley faces and exclamation points that she usually uses in text messages.

It's not that she doesn't want to hang out with him. Of course she does, but she's so distracted by this Santana thing that she doesn't think she can put it out of her mind to hang out with him, and she certainly doesn't want him to know because he has been absolutely perfect and she doesn't want him to doubt that for a second.

Then again, she doesn't even think of the fact that he's definitely going to know that something's not right when she didn't text him back and she didn't jump at the chance to go to the lake as soon as he offered. He knows her well enough to know that something's up when she doesn't text him back immediately because she prides herself on responding to text messages extremely promptly.

Dragging herself out of bed, she's picking out a bikini that strikes a tasteful balance between sexy and classy when her phone beeps again. _Okay, can't wait to see you, rach. _She knows that he thinks he's done something wrong because he's laying it on thick, and she immediately feels bad because he's done nothing but be absolutely perfect since her dad got sick; even before they were dating, he did everything he could to be there for her and to help her get through the scariest, hardest time in her life, and now she's repaying him by having a stupid, insecure schoolgirl freak out.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, she tries to rid her mind of all thoughts of Santana and focuses on getting rid for her day out with Noah. She considers straightening her hair but then realizes there's no way she's getting through this day without going into the lake because she knows that Noah _loves_ to swim and will definitely be sweet-talking her into the water at some point, so she forgoes doing her hair aside from brushing it and pulling it into a long braid over her right shoulder. Grinning a little, she also tucks a white flower behind her ear to spice up the hairstyle before she swipes on minimal make-up (it'll wash off in the water, anyway) and picks out a dark blue beach halter to wear over her mint green bikini. And then she gathers an apple and puts together a salad in a Tupperware for lunch before sitting down to eat a grapefruit before Noah gets there to pick her up.

He pulls into the driveway when she's about halfway done and lets himself into her house, strolling into the kitchen and tossing his keys in the little dish on the counter where the whole Berry family keeps their keys. He pours himself a mug of coffee from the pot she made and presses a kiss to her bare shoulder as he drops into the seat kitty corner from her. He sips his coffee quietly until she's finished her grapefruit and then leans back in his seat and asks her what's up conversationally.

"Nothing, I'm just not feeling like myself today, so I was planning on kind of lazing around home."

He narrows his eyes at her skeptically, but just finishes the last swig of his coffee and puts his mug in the dishwasher.

"Forget it," she tells him. "Just drop it. I'm fine now; let's just go to the lake."

He continues to look at her skeptically but takes her hand and leads her out the door and to his truck. When he speaks next, it's to ask her if she cares what music they listen to on the way to the lake, which is about half an hour from her house, so she knows that the subject has been dropped (at least for the time being—she knows he's not going to let it go forever).

She lets him pick the CD, but for the first time ever she has to consciously make sure that she's singing along so that he doesn't get any more suspicious. They get to the lake without any further incident, and she's happy to see that it's largely deserted; it's still early in the season for anyone to go swimming and not a lot of people come out here just to hang out by the water, but she likes it best this way: just her and Noah.

Of course, she realizes, not long after they arrive, that their solitude provides very little in the way of distractions, so Noah really has his complete attention on her, even though she knows he really does whenever they're together—it's one of the reasons she's in love with him.

Wait, what? She is not in love with him, is she? This is nothing what she felt like when she was with Finn. With Finn, she felt the need to check up on his every move, to seek constant reassurance from him and to make sure that he was constantly aware that she was a part of his life. She doesn't feel the need to do any of that with Noah, and she knows she was in love with Finn, so that must mean that she's not in love with Noah, right?

Or, maybe that just means that she trusts Noah much more than she ever trusted Finn. She knows that he's conscious of her role in his life because he carved it out especially for her. He created a Rachel sized and shaped hole in his routine to make sure that she had a safe and special place in his life. Finn, on the other hand, she's just realizing now, tried to make her fit into the generic girlfriend shaped hole at his side, a hole that had no room for her quirks and passions, no room for her admittedly oversized personality. Noah wants her in his life so he made room for _her,_ not for Quinn or Santana or a generic, faceless girl but for her and everything that comes with her, so she doesn't feel a psychotic need to check up on him or wear "Team Puck" shirts (although she got the impression that he would be a much bigger fan of that than Finn ever was) or give him matching, kitten adorned, relationship calendars because she knows that she's already an essential part of his life without her shoving reminders in his face at every turn.

And with that realization, she's able to turn to him, kiss him and tell him, with her signature beaming stage smile on her face, that everything is truly fine, and that she had a little freak-out earlier but it's not anything that he should concern himself with because things are perfect just the way they are and she hopes that nothing changes for a long time. And then he pulls her back for another kiss, lays her out on the picnic blanket he had spread carefully over the grass and presses her body deliciously between the hard planes of his own and the ground beneath her and she truly believes that nothing has ever been so perfect in her life. (She seems to have that feeling a lot with Noah around; she could get used to it).

* * *

On Monday, when she and Santana are walking towards each other in an otherwise deserted hall, Rachel stops her. "Did you tell Noah what we talked about?"

Santana looks at her suspiciously. "Why?"

"We just had a really nice weekend together, so I was curious."

Santana shakes her head and says simply, "I haven't seen Puck since I talked to you in the library on Friday." Then she keeps walking down the hall, leaving Rachel in her wake.

Now Rachel's not really sure how she's still standing because that fifteen second exchange with Santana honestly made her weekend with Noah that much more perfect. Even though she doesn't know if that conversation she and Santana had in the library on Friday was initiated indirectly by Noah, she knows that what was said will get back to him as soon as Santana has a chance to talk with him, but knowing that he planned everything over the weekend because he knew she would like it and because he wanted to do it for her even though he didn't know just how invested in the relationship she is (although, Rachel Berry doesn't _ever_ do anything half-assed) makes her want to show him just how invested she actually is.

And since she thinks it might be too early for a confession of love, even though she's positive she feels it, she's going to have to think of the perfect plan to convey how she feels to him without actually saying the words, so that he feels loved and appreciated without her blatantly throwing it in his face. It's going to be a challenge, and there's nothing that Rachel Berry loves more than a challenge.

It comes to her only a period later. Noah has been begging her since before they started dating to just give his favorite movie series a chance, and she just hasn't been able to drum up any interest, so she's been feeding him excuses and cutting back on the musicals and show tunes while they're hanging out and frankly it's killing her.

She was as surprised as anyone the first time that he asked her to watch "The Fellowship of the Ring" with him, and she's certain that no one other than his mother, who paid for him to buy them on iTunes even knows that he's a fan of the series because she's sure he thinks it's "nerdy" or "lame," so she knows exactly what she's going to do for him. She's going to one (or two) up his request of watching one film of the trilogy together. She's going to watch the whole thing with him, and she's going to buy him the box set of all three DVDs because she knows how much he hates watching movies on his tiny laptop screen.

When he drives her home after school, she can hardly contain her excitement, and being the observant boyfriend that he is, he notices before they've even turned out of the school parking lot. He shoots an incredulous look at her and says "Christ, Berry, did you take speed since I saw you at lunch? You can't even sit in your seat."

She giggles at him and tells him the first lie of their relationship. "No I just had a really good idea for a song for Glee, so I'm excited to get home and print off the sheet music and arrange it."

He gives her another look. "Jesus, Berry, you're _so_ lame." But his voice doesn't hold any of the malice she's often come to expect from her peers; it holds the gentle teasing lilt that she's come to associate completely with his smooth voice, and it makes her want to kiss him so badly that she scoots over on the bench seat of his truck and kisses her way up the column of his neck until she gets to his ear which she nibbles on causing him to let out a strangled moan and jerk the steering wheel jarringly. He pushes her slightly away very gently and wraps his arm around her shoulder, grinning down at her at the next stop sign. "I gotta keep you right here so you don't get up to anymore trouble and actually cause an accident, you little vixen."

She smirks at him before leaning up to press a much more innocent kiss to the defined cut of his jaw and then she pulls completely away and settles back in the passenger seat with the shoulder belt properly fastened—it's much safer.

When he pulls his truck into her driveway and sees her dad's car in the driveway, he's reminded once again of their severe lack of alone time. Between her dad's recovery and his sister's constant presence in his house when she's not in school (it's so inconvenient that they have school at the same time), they're literally never alone except when they're driving somewhere or out to dinner (which obviously doesn't count since there are societal norms that dictate appropriate behavior—her words). Instead of getting out and following her up to her bedroom and initiating a super hot make out session on her (ridiculously comfortable) bed like he wants to, he settles for sliding over so his right side is pressed flush against her left side and leaning down wordlessly to kiss her. When he feels like he needs to feel more of her or he might actually die, he easily lifts her so she's straddling his lap and they pick up right where they left off. When, eventually, he knows he needs to stop or things are just going to have to progress, he pulls away slowly and reluctantly, leaning back into to drop a few chaste kisses on her swollen lips.

Eventually he pulls his head off her shoulder and looks up to meet her eyes and he's happy to note that they are still very much glazed over. Smiling up at her, he cups her face in his hands and says "baby, that was fuckin' hot."

She giggles, and god, he just can never get enough of that sound. But unfortunately, his truck has been sitting in her driveway for the better part of ten minutes and he has to get home and he's pretty sure her dad is probably catching on to what's going on out here, and he really doesn't want Mr. Berry to have any more heart trouble and defiling their little girl certainly isn't going to help that cause. Unfortunately all this means that she has to get off his lap, so even though that sounds like just about the worst thing ever, he gently pats the outside of her thigh and she slides reluctantly off him, straightening her clothes before she pecks him chastely on the lips one last time and hops from the car.

He watches her go inside and then backs out of the driveway with a little smile playing on his lips. It sits there for much of the rest of the afternoon. (He's found recently that he can't really stop smiling a little bit for _hours_ after he hangs out with her; people are starting to notice and he's pretty sure it's really crippling his reputation yet he _still can't care_). He likes the way he feels when he's got that smile on his lips, so everyone else can go fuck themselves.

When she gets inside, she dutifully hangs her light spring coat in the hall closet and tucks her shoes there as well and then goes and talks to her father, asking him about his day and telling him about her own. She blushes to the roots of her hair when he asks what Noah's truck was doing in the driveway for so long, and she tells him that they were just saying goodbye since they don't have any plans to see each other until he picks her up for school in the morning. Her dad gives her a knowing look but doesn't say anything else, so she kisses him on the cheek and then scurries back to her own room to start researching her awesome surprise for Noah. She checks the price of a box set of Lord of the Rings DVDs including shipping (quite reasonable and very manageable since she is an extraordinarily responsible saver for someone of her age), has them sent overnight because she wants to make sure she has them the next time an opportunity presents itself for her and Noah to have a special night for themselves and then she goes back to her Dad's room to discretely find out the next time her parents plan on going anywhere and whether or not she can get out of it.

She's pretty sure that the stars are aligning for her to have a special night with Noah when her Dad tells her that he has an appointment on Friday afternoon in Ann Arbor, so he and her Daddy have decided that they're going to spend the night Friday night in the apartment there to cut down on the stress of driving there and back in a day. She knows she pulls off the disappoint, "I'm going to miss you so much" look perfectly because he pats her knee and says "oh, star, I'm so sorry we'll have to leave before you get out of school, but my appointment's at three so we'd never make it if we waited for school to let out, and your education is very important. Your daddy and I already discussed it and we know you'll be fine for a night. You're a very bright, responsible and resourceful girl."

Smiling brightly at him, she rises back to her feet, barely able to contain her inner excitement at how perfectly her plan is working. "I'll be fine, Dad, I'll just miss you guys." Bouncing from the room, she calls over her shoulder "I'm sure I'll have plenty of homework." Little does her father know, she's shooting her boyfriend a text at that very moment. _I'm home alone Friday night. Keep me company? :)_.

She hasn't even gotten down the hall from her fathers' room to her own before her phone chirps with a response. _Fuck yes baby can't wait_. She spends the rest of her night smiling—her plan is working out perfectly. It will be nothing to execute it to perfection. As far as she's concerned Friday can't come soon enough.

* * *

She should have known that nothing ever works out as serendipitously as her plan for her and Noah did. The next day he texts her in the morning that he can't pick her up for school and that he wants to talk to her when he gets there, so he asks her to meet him by his locker at 7:40. She agrees, and she's there by 7:35. When he walks into school at 7:41, his backpack is hanging off one shoulder as he digs around in it while shuffling unseeingly toward her. He looks tired and harassed, a stark contrast to the cool, confident demeanor he almost always portrays.

Managing a smile when they make eye contact, he leans down and kisses her quickly before straightening and zipping up his backpack. "Hey baby, sorry I couldn't pick you up this morning. Eliza's friend who usually brings her to school has chicken pox, and they only called and told us this morning so I had to rush her to the before school program at her school and get that all settled because Ma worked overnight."

"It's ok. Daddy drove me on his way to work, so it worked out fine." She smiles up at him and pops up on her tiptoes to wrap a hand around the back of his neck and draw herself closer. "I'm can't wait for Friday though." She leans forward to kiss him and nips his bottom lip just a little and he can't help the way his arm shoots out to wrap around her waist and pull her body flush against his.

"Yeah, baby, about that," he looks down guiltily, "I think I'm gonna have to cancel."

Her stomach drops and she can feel her lips pulling into a frown but she's slightly heartened by the fact that when she finally makes eye contact with him he looks as disappointed about it as she feels. "What do you mean cancel?"

"My mom works Friday nights, and Eliza was supposed to sleep over at her friend's house so I was free, but the friend that drives her to school in the morning is the friend that she was supposed to stay with Friday night but she got chicken pox so Eliza can't go over there because she's never had them. I'm so sorry, baby."

Rachel, of course, is still confused on the logistics. "So what does Eliza usually do in the mornings when you don't bring her to the early morning program at school?"

"I bring her to her friend's house on my way to school. Her friend lives on Oak, right around the corner from you, so I still have time to pick you up and not be late for school, but Eliza's school is all the way on the other side of town so there's no way I could drop her off and then pick you up and still be on time for school, which I know is important to you." He loves the smile she sends him but still has to ask "why does this even matter?"

"I don't know; it just seems like it does. I'm really disappointed, Noah. Who knows when my dads will be gone overnight again?"

Puck smiles at her but he can't help the annoyance that bubbles right under the surface. Does she really have to say that she's disappointed? Of course he is too, but there's nothing he can do about this and she knows how important his family is to him. Before he can say anything more, the second bell rings, and they exchange a look. "Did you hear the warning bell?"

She looks around at the noticeably empty hall they're standing in. "No, not at all. I better go though, I have Mrs. Benson this period and you know how she is about being on time." She smiles a little bit at him and then hurries down the hall toward her classroom without even kissing him goodbye. She _always_ kisses him goodbye.

* * *

By the time lunch rolls around he's actually getting angry. He honestly cannot believe that Rachel's actually mad at him about this. Disappointed or upset he definitely gets, but mad makes no sense. For once, he actually did nothing wrong and he doesn't see how it's fair that he still gets blamed because he honestly would like nothing more than to spend Friday night in completely alone with his girlfriend with no interruptions for the first time since they started dating. When he sits down next to her, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek instead of on the lips like he's used to and then she goes back to her conversation with Tina without saying anything else at all to him.

He's pissed that she's not talking to him, so he turns his back almost completely to her and strikes up a conversation with Mike and Matt about the Victoria's Secret catalog that he'd gotten in the mail last night. He knows it's petty and stupid but he wants Rachel to hear him talking about how hot the models because he just wants to make her mad. He knows his girl well because just over ten minutes later he can tell that she's fuming as he and Mike discuss whether Adriana Lima or Alessandra Ambrosio is hotter. And when he wins the argument with an (admittedly) disgusting but extremely thorough and detailed analysis of why Alessandra is obviously way hotter, Rachel lets out a huff and levels him with her best glare.

Smirking at her, he takes a sip of her water and then leans forward with his elbows on the table ready for the fight he knows he's about to get. "What's up, baby?"

"I just don't understand what would ever make you think that this is an appropriate conversation to have in front of me. Don't you respect me at all?"

He rolls his eyes. "Well, I don't understand why you think that it's appropriate to be angry with me and _stop talking to me_ because Eliza's friend got chicken pox. It's not like I infected her to get out of hanging out with you. Don't you think I'd rather be alone in your house with you than watching Hannah Montana for hours with my kid sister?" At this point, he's standing, his chest is heaving with exertion and most of the kids in the dining hall are looking at him with confused expressions on their faces. Glancing around, he waves them vaguely off and turns his attention back to Rachel who looks just as confused as everyone else in the room. She also looks hurt. It's not an expression he likes on her face, and he's really not sure how they got to this point or when he got so angry.

"I'm not not speaking to you, Noah. I've barely seen you at all today; in fact, I've spent all morning trying to brainstorm a way to make our night together special even though we don't get to be alone, but clearly that's not even an option to you. I've forgotten how vengeful you can be." Her eyes are glassy as she maintains eye contact with him while she stands up, gathers her things and then she turns on her heel and is out of the lunchroom before he can even react to stop her.

He looks up at the ceiling, as frustrated as he's ever been, and then back down at his friends. They're all staring at him like they've never seen him before and he's a completely different person. Rolling his eyes, he grabs the trash from his half-eaten lunch and dumps it in the trash can on his way out the door. He doesn't really know where he's going but he realizes that he just had his first fight with Rachel and it fucking sucks.

When she storms from the lunch room she heads straight for her favorite place in the entire school. It's not the choir room or the auditorium; it's the press box above the school's swimming pool. No one knows how to get up there, and since the swim coach is a lawyer at the only firm in Lima, she's never at school during the day so no one is ever in the pool room. It's where she always goes to think, avoid being slushied or to eat on days when she doesn't want to sit in the library.

She had thought about going out to the bleachers because it's such a nice day out but she knows that Noah will look for her in the auditorium, the choir room and on the bleachers and she's so hurt and offended and confused about how their fight even happened that she cannot see him right now. She has no idea where they went wrong. One moment she was sitting there at lunch listening to Tina talk about her latest fight with Artie and the next second she was overhearing Noah talk completely crudely about these Victoria Secret models. And even then everything was fine until she heard the sentence that changed everything. That's the turning point that she can pin the fight on. "Yeah, man, I mean they're all better than anything we're ever gonna see in this town but if I'm picking my top one, it's Alessandra. She's the whole package: tall, thin, curvy, perfect face. She's definitely the whole package."

That was the point at which she huffed and he started talking directly to her and the whole fight blew up from there. She can feel tears gathering in her eyes because he actually did what she rationally knows what he was intending to do with all those comments, and even though she knows, she can't help but react any way. As much as she would like to be able to, she still hasn't trained herself control the way she feels, so she's just hurt, which she knows was Noah's goal. So yeah, she's equal parts hurt and infuriated with him actually which explains the blow up, although now that she thinks back on it, he really did all the talking, which sucks (god, his language is rubbing off on her) because she actually has a lot to say.

Before she can work herself into any more of a rage about the whole incident, she hears footsteps and her heart starts racing and it feels like when Santana was walking toward her in the library except much worse because she's allowed to be in the library and most certainly is not allowed to be here. She's more than a little surprised when the door creaks open and she hears her boyfriend's drawl. "Ah, fuck, I give up looking and then I find you. Figures. What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?"

He rolls his eyes. "This is where I come when I actually don't want anyone to find me."

"This is where I come to think."

"How did you even know this was here, Rachel? You've never broken a goddamn rule in your life."

"I just found it one day, and it kind of became my spot."

As long as he lives, he'll never be able to explain what happens next. "Fuck, baby, this is why I love you."

Oh, fuck. He's never actually said that (and meant it) before, but even he knows you're not supposed to be saying for the first time in your first huge fight.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Aladdin. **

**Chapter 15**

He can't believe that _that_ was how he told her he loves her, but he doesn't really have any time to dwell on it because she's already speaking and he can tell from one cursory glance that she is _angry_. But at least she starts off gently. "Well, I love you too but that doesn't change anything."

"What do you mean 'it doesn't change anything?' Of course it does. It changes everything. This isn't some shit I take lightly, Rachel. Do you even know how hard it is for me to say those words?"

"I'm sure it is. But it doesn't change what happened today, it doesn't change what you did."

"First of all, Rachel, I've only ever said those words to my mom and Eliza and I've only ever really felt it about them, my dad and Beth, and the last two are both fucking gone. You should know how hard it is for me to put myself on the line like that _again_. And on top of that you should know that it's ridiculous to think I would be trying to get out of whatever surprise you had planned for me. Hanging out with you is my favorite thing ever and I don't want to cancel it, like, ever, so there's no way in hell I'm making up reasons to avoid you. That's crazy talk, baby."

"If you love me so much, why would you try to hurt me with the one thing I'm most insecure about?"

"Baby, how could you ever be insecure? You're the most beautiful girl I know."

She's so frustrated with him that she's _thisclose_ to actually physically stomping her foot. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you've dated all the most beautiful girls in this stupid little town and I'm just some cute little girl compared to them and then you start talking about these _women _who aren't even close to natural and there's no way I can ever measure up to that. And _don't_ call me crazy."

Puck sighs and he can literally feel the anger melting out of him, as sadness replaces it. "Rachel, you're beautiful. There's no one I'd rather have. I was just saying all that stupid shit to Chang and Matty to get a rise out of you because I was pissed since I thought you weren't talking to me because I had to cancel our date to watch Eliza. And I honestly had no idea how insecure you are about your looks because when I look at you, Rach, I see the most beautiful girl I've ever known, so it's hard for me to imagine you seeing yourself any differently."

Smiling, Rachel can feel the color heating her cheeks and even though she wishes she wasn't about to forgive him so easily, he's obviously being genuine and honest so she can't help it. "I apologize for giving you the impression that I was angry with you for the Eliza incident. I should be more conscious of the way my actions are perceived."

"There you go again, talking like a fuckin' dictionary." He rubs his hands over her shoulders, squeezing gently. "It's a good thing I love you."

"Oh, thank goodness, I love you too. I was afraid you were just saying that to get me to stop being mad at you."

"Fuck that shit, baby, you had to know. You were already my best friend and our chemistry is fuckin' great. We're a couple of hot Jews; it's only natural." She rolls her eyes at him but doesn't say anything.

A couple minutes pass before he smirks at her. "You know what? We're pretty badass, Rachel. We just made it through our first fight." He holds up a hand and she high fives him enthusiastically.

They are pretty badass.

* * *

Despite their level of badassness (his word), the problem that was the root of their fight (kind of) doesn't go away. They still have plans that Rachel's really excited about, but absolutely willing to postpone if necessary, but Eliza still needs someone to watch her. Rachel, obviously still nervous from their last fight, has told him at least thirty five times (barely an exaggeration) since they made up that it's okay if their plans get canceled and even though it won't be as much fun, they can do it another night, even if her dads are home.

He feels bad about misinterpreting her silence and causing a whole huge fight but he also has this weird feeling that they're closer now than they were before because of it. He doesn't really understand it, but based on the way interactions between them have been since the fight, he thinks it's definitely true for her too.

When Friday rolls around, he's in kind of a foul mood, but he's trying not to take it out on Rachel because it's obviously not her fault and he doesn't want another fight caused by a misunderstanding so soon. She's giving him space too because she knows that they can both be irrational, hot-headed and definitely both have short fuses. But she's also not giving up because she wants them to have their night together whether or not it's exactly the night she planned.

She can still show him how important he is to her. Her plan will just need a little tweaking.

Instead of him coming over and watching the trilogy all curled up together under a heavy blanket in her basement media room, she goes to Blockbuster and rents the Lizzie McGuire movie (a favorite of her childhood although she knows Eliza's too young for the series), _What a Girl Wants_ (because she loved Amanda Bynes when she was younger) and _Inception_ for her and Noah once Eliza goes to bed. Then she texts Noah: _Can I come keep you company while you watch Eliza tomorrow night?_

His response is nearly instantaneous. _Sure baby but it's not gonna be the night you prob planned _

She smiles; he has no idea what she has up her sleeve. _Just trust me I've got it all figured it out._

He doesn't respond, but she knows that her plan for the next night is flawless. And she's excited because she'll finally get to spend some real quality time with Eliza and see Noah in his role as a brother. It's going to be great.

* * *

The doorbell rings at five in the afternoon on the dot, and as he's answering the door, Puck can't help but wonder how she does it. She is literally always on time—never early and never, ever late—it's like a special Rachel-only talent. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" She breezes past him, setting the bags in her hands down on the kitchen table and leaning up to kiss him. He takes a minute from his questioning to kiss her back, grabbing her hips and pulling her up against his body and nipping her bottom lip playfully between his teeth. When he pulls back from the kiss, he doesn't let her pull away, keeping their hips pressed intimately together. She's looking up at him all dazed and he honestly has completely forgotten whatever they were talking about before he kissed her. "How do I do what, Noah?"

He lets her go and starts poking through her grocery bags, looking for something he can eat right now. He's starving. "How do you manage to always be exactly on time?"

She looks up and winks at him. "A girl has to keep some secrets, Noah." He looks at her, confused, but then pulls a granny smith apple out of one of the bags and sits down at the kitchen table. "Anyway, I was going to make a nice veggie stir fry for dinner. What do you think?" She pulls a knife from the block next to the toaster before turning to look at him.

"I think it sounds great, baby, but Eliza won't eat it." He hates the way her face falls like it's a personal insult against her that Eliza hates vegetables. It's obviously not. Eliza is seven.

"Okay, well, I guess we can order pizza or something." She shrugs and turns away from him, putting the knife she had pulled out away and bracing her hands on the counter. It's a just a moment before she turns back around with a smile on her face, but he catches it and hoists himself out of his chair, glad that Eliza's not home from her gymnastics class yet.

Once he's standing in front of her, he reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder. "You okay, baby?"

"Yes, of course, Noah, I'm fine. It was silly of me to plan a veggie stir fry for a seven year old. I just wanted to do something special for you and then you had to watch Eliza too, which, of course, was completely understandable, so I expanded to do something special for you and Eliza and now I can't even do that right. I just wish that I could because you're so great and everything has been going so well, and I haven't even done anything for you. Hell, I haven't even let you do anything more than touch my breasts. I'm the worst girlfriend ever."

When she looks up from examining her hands to meet his eyes, he tries to wipe his face clean in time, but it's to no avail. He can tell immediately by the expression in her eyes that she caught the amused expression on his face. "And now, you're laughing at me. I'm glad you find this entertaining, Noah, really. Just laugh at me for being so in love with you that I'm making a fool out of myself. Could you be anymore insensitive? I can't even believe you—"

Before she can talk anymore, he lifts her chin with his free hand and dips his head and kisses her softly. He pulls away after a long moment but keeps his hand on her face. "Baby, you swore!"

"What? No, I didn't."

"You totally did. You said hell. I heard you!"

He can tell that she's thinking about it for a second and then realization spreads over her face. "Oh, you're right, I totally did."

Smirking, he kisses her again quickly and then presses his forehead to hers for a moment before he pulls back enough to meet her eyes. "Rachel, you don't need to plan big things to show me how much you love me, okay? I know. You've made me feel so fucking cared for and loved I can't even describe it. You don't need big grand gestures for me and my sister because I already know." He rubs his hands up and down her upper arms a couple of times and then pulls her tightly to his chest in a hug.

Her voice is muffled against his chest when she speaks. "Does that mean I should return the Lord of the Rings DVD box set I bought you?"

He pushes her gently away so he can look at her to make sure she's serious but keeps his hands on her upper arms. "Are you serious, Rach? Fuck, no." He looks at her calculatingly. "Wait a minute, why did you buy those?"

"I told you my dads aren't home. I was going to cook you dinner and then watch them with you. I guess they're about three hours each? So I was thinking that we could pull an all-nighter together and then spend Saturday sleeping and hanging out at my house. I thought we could just have a nice little weekend just the two of us. But since they aren't appropriate for Eliza I went to Blockbuster last night and rented a couple movies suitable for her age."

He kisses her hotly. "Baby, you didn't have to do that. You're too fucking good to us. Seriously, you're the best."

She smiles and blushes. "We'll just have to save the Lord of the Rings for another time. I'm sure my dads will go away again at some point."

His phone vibrating in his pocket interrupts him just when he's about to respond. When he pulls it out, he sees that it's his mom. Since she's at work so she wouldn't normally be calling, he answers. " 'Lo?"

"Noah, hi, I need you to go pick up Eliza at gymnastics. She fell and they think she broke her ankle and they're going to call the paramedics but I don't want her to be alone. She's so little and she must be in so much pain."

"Yeah, of course, Ma, I'm going now okay? Don't worry. I'll call you the second we get to the ER, okay?"

"Okay, thank you, Noah. I love you."

He glances over at Rachel and can feel the blush coloring his cheeks. "Love you too, Ma," he mumbles, looking away from his girlfriend. He can see her looking down, fiddling with the strap of her shirt and smiling this cute little smile, but he's not going to say anything. Instead he grabs her hand and tells her what's going on. "I gotta go to Eliza's gymnastics class. You wanna come or stay here or just reschedule?"

"I'll come. Eliza might need you, so maybe you'll need me to drive or something."

Tugging on her hand and leading her out the door, he can't help but be blown away once again by how great this girl is. She's seriously perfect, and he has no idea what he did to deserve her but he's going to do whatever he can to hold onto her because she's probably the best thing that's ever going to happen to him since despite what she might say he's not going to amount to much more than a high school diploma holding Lima loser. But yeah, he's not going to say anything to that effect to her because he can't even imagine the ridiculous rant that it would provoke because she _actually_ sees something in him.

When they get to the Lima Gymnastics Center, Puck is out of the car before it's even completely stopped in the parking spot, slamming the passenger door of her little car and running into the center. Her heart tugs at how worried about his little sister he is, and she quickly shifts the car into park and locks her car behind her, gripping her keys in her fist since she left her bag at Noah's in their hurry and striding quickly into the facility. She's never been in here before so she has to stop at the reception desk and ask for directions. The girl who looks to be about her age but doesn't go to McKinley gives Rachel a once over before telling her that "if she's looking for the gorgeous guy with the great ass," to follow the hall to the end turn left and go through the second door on the right.

Rachel thanks the girl and rolls her eyes as she walks away. She doesn't have time to deal with snotty Cheerio wannabes right now and she wishes she could find some girls in the world that weren't like Quinn and Santana, girls that were just mature and nice.

She takes her time walking to the room because she doesn't want to crowd Eliza and although she's met Noah's younger sister she thinks that they got along well, she doesn't think that they're close enough that she can be of any real use right now. When she lets herself into the room, she sees the teacher sitting cross-legged on the mat and Noah bent over someone, perched on one knee. He's blocking Eliza's face from view, but she can see his profile and she can tell his eyebrows are knit together in concern. One of his hands is clutched in Eliza's much smaller one and he's using the other to stroke the dark curls that escaped from her ponytail back from her face. The other little girls are huddled off in a corner just off the side of the floor routine mat, and they all look scared and shaken up. The room is almost completely quiet and she can hear Eliza's sniffles and Noah's quiet consolation. "I know it hurts, Lizeydoll, but Rachel and I are going to take you to the doctors and they're going to make you feel so much better, okay?"

There's another sniffle and then a soft "where's Rachel?"

He smiles and looks around the gym until his eyes fall on her. "She's right there, by the door. Do you see her baby girl?"

"Yeah, will she come over do you think?"

"Of course she will." He locks eyes with his girlfriend and nods his head, signaling her to come across the mat and over to where Eliza's laying.

"Hey, Eliza," she says softly sitting down next to Noah near his sister's head. "How are you feeling?"

She manages a little smile and Rachel smiles back, her heart breaking for the obvious pain that the little girl is in. "My leg hurts but Noah said we're going to go to the hospital soon and then the doctors will make it all better."

"Noah's right. And when we're at the hospital, you'll probably get to see your mom too."

Eliza smiles and there's a short pause before she speaks again in a timid little voice, "Rachel?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Will you sing me a song? Noah told me that you have a better voice than _even Hannah Montana_ so I bet it would make me not think about my ankle."

Rachel tinges pink and glances over at Noah, who has an amused smile on his face and sends Rachel a shrug and a wink. Even though she doesn't have any younger siblings, she knows from the little girls she works with at the JCC that Hannah Montana is a big deal and from a seven year old, it's a huge compliment to be a better singer than Miley Cyrus, even though her dreams are a lot bigger than some auto-tuned pop shit (oh God, she's been spending too much time with Noah).

"Of course. What would you like me to sing? I'm afraid I don't know any Hannah Montana songs, but I'm pretty good with all the Disney classics."

"What? There's something that's not in Rachel Berry's wheelhouse?" Noah asks in mock awe. She looks over at him and he has that teasing glint in his eye, the one she fell in love with. "Congrats, Eliza, you stumped the expert."

Smiling indulgently at Noah before she looks over at Eliza, Rachel lets out a little laugh. "What do you think, sweetheart?"

"Have you ever seen Aladdin?"

"I have. Jasmine's my favorite Disney princess."

Eliza's eyes light up and she smiles up toward Rachel. "Mine too, could you sing 'A Whole New World'?"

Sighing, Rachel opens her mouth to explain that it's a duet and wouldn't make much sense if she sang it alone, but before she can say anything, Noah speaks up. "Sure, we can, baby girl. Rach'll be the best duet partner I've ever had for this song." He winks when he looks up at Rachel and then with a brow cocked, "you ready for this, Berry?"

She nods and smiles at him before turning to look at Eliza while Noah jumps straight into the song.

_I can show you the world / shining, shimmering, splendid / come on, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide. _She gets so lost in his voice that she nearly misses her cue, but then she's smiling ear to ear throughout the entire song, and by the time she and Noah have finished, the paramedics are hurrying into the gym. They surround Eliza, looking carefully at her ankle, asking her a couple questions about her pain levels and then a couple more questions to make sure she didn't bump her head too badly when she fell. They choose to wheel her out on the stretcher just to be safe, and it's obvious that Noah's shaken up by seeing his little sister on it. She is absolutely dwarfed by the stretcher and she looks even tinier than usual all strapped on. As soon as she's settled she reaches out and Noah clasps her little hand in his much larger one, looking to the paramedics for their next instructions.

They smile at him and tell him that if he rides in the ambulance, Eliza is much more likely to stay calm and that's probably a good idea, so he agrees, handing Rachel his keys and telling her to meet them at the ER.

Since it's not an emergency, the ambulance doesn't put on its sirens and Rachel follows it easily to Lima General Hospital, parking Noah's truck carefully and then hurrying into the ER so she can hopefully find Eliza and Noah before they take Eliza back to be treated. She knows since Mrs. Puckerman works at the hospital that Eliza will likely be seen quickly. Sure enough, when she gets to the doors of the ER, Noah is standing outside with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward, waiting casually for her.

When she reaches him, he snakes an arm around her waist and kisses her tightly before pulling back to look in her eyes while keeping her wrapped up in his arms. "Hi, baby, sorry our night took such a terrible turn."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Noah. There's nothing you could do about it."

Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he shrugs. "Yeah but you had stuff all planned for us."

"So? We'll just do it next time you have to babysit, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, baby." He leans down and kisses her gently, running a hand back through her hair. "You gonna be okay at home alone tonight?"

"Of course. I'm fully capable of taking care of myself."  
"I know you are, but we were supposed to hang out. Didn't want you to get freaked out all alone in your house."

She smiles at him, shakes her head a little bit. "I'm not afraid of my own house, Noah, don't be ridiculous."

He shrugs again (of course). "Just checkin'. I don't know how long Eliza's gonna be here, but my mom has to finish her shift, so obviously I have to bring Eliza home and keep an eye on her. Make sure she's getting her drugs and is taken care of and shit."

"Oh, of course, I'll just take the bus home. The hospital is on the same route as my house."

"What? Fuck, no, Rach. You're not taking that creepy as fuck bus anywhere."

Laughing, she grips his bicep in her tiny hand. "I used to take the bus all the time before we became friends. It's really not a problem."

"Rachel, you're my girlfriend. There's no way in hell I'm letting you get anywhere near that bus ever again if I can help it. That bus is creepy as fuck. There are some guys that take that bus all the time that I will _never_ let anywhere near you, okay?"

She shakes her head but agrees grudgingly, walking back with him to his truck while he shoots a quick text to his mom, explaining the situation. She's taken the bus a million times but nothing bad has ever happened to her, and if it does, she, like any smart woman who travels alone, carries pepper spray in her purse. But once Noah becomes attached to someone, he has a protective streak a mile wide. She's seen it before with only Eliza, his mom and Beth, but now it's completely obvious that he's absurdly protective of her as well. It's endearing, if not immensely frustrating in situations like this. She knows better than to fight him on it though because even though she can really dig her heels in, he's far more stubborn than she, particularly when it comes to the perceived safety of people he loves.

The car ride back to her house is quiet with just the noise of the radio playing in the background, but she sits in the middle of the bench seat in the cab of his truck and rests her hand on his shoulder while he holds her hand atop his thigh. It's one of those achingly perfect moments she has with him and she commits it to memory because even though it's early in their relationship, and things are moving fast, she doesn't think this relationship has an expiration date like everything with Finn did, and she wants to remember all of it, even its humblest beginnings.

At a red light a couple blocks from the turn for her house, he turns his head and presses his lips lingeringly to her temple, expelling a deep breath against her hair. When he turns his head to focus on driving again, she burrows deeper into his shoulder and inhales the scent of his cologne, wishing she could stay there forever.


End file.
